#/// been busy irl with work and cleaning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelisverba · 1 year

Text

achilles heel

in which y/n gets herself into another precarious situation and wants her dealer to help her, and harry can’t help but feel conflicted about how much he wants her

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: bad trip! peer pressure, drug coercion, drugs, mentions of bullying, sexual content!

author’s note: there aren’t any facts to back up the use of any kind of sexual enhancers, so much of this experience is improvised and not actually something that would happen irl in terms of science. love you!

Two slow, torturously long weeks pass- one in which he was out of business entirely trying to stock his inventory up again- before he hears from her again. In the middle of the night, it’s beginning to become a pattern for them. He only hopes that this time, it’s not for an asshole group of people.

His bohemian dream of a room is upturned, messy, as he’s been a grump about not seeing her. There’s shirts strewn everywhere, his bed is a rumpled mess and he wishes that it were because he had sex in it instead of restlessly sleeping. He’s coming out of the shower with a white towel low on his hips. There are clouds of thick steam coming out from his open bathroom door and while a majority is from the hot water he hoped would soothe his tense body, there's a bit of thicker, headier smoke from the skinny spliff he hotboxed while in the tub.

And it hadn’t worked for shit. Because he was still cranky, still restless. His fingers were itching to do something, and if he hadn’t just smoked weed, he would be in his garage, throwing around weights like a madman to try and get himself tired. Sadly, he wasn’t even fucking horny, so jerking off wasn’t an option.

Sidestepping his sweatpants by the edge of his bed, Harry grips the thick of the fabric at his crotch and reaches for a pair of clean underwear from a drawer at his bedside table, furrows his eyebrows at the box of condoms stashed in there, and pull on white boxers. He throws the towel at the end of his bed and lays back with his arms splayed wide, sighing dramatically. He felt deeply sorry for himself.

Y/n was probably never going to talk to him again because the last few times they had seen each other, Harry was a complete dick to her, acting every bit like the asshole drug dealer that had a criminal reputation. God, the girl was probably scared of him. He fucked his all-

Ping!

This phone went off with a notification. The same tone he had assigned her, and Harry’s body lurched off the bed. His arms swept the expanse of his bed, ruffling his duvet in search of the device.

Ping!

It went off again, and the urgency in which he was searching increased. Where the fuck was his-

He found it when it thunked onto the floor, and with shaking hands, he unlocked it.

Y/n: Hi, Harry!

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

Of course he is. Always, for her. But he didn’t type that back, obviously. He had to be cool.

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

The gray dots appear instantly, and he gets another text shortly after.

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

He had been to a frat party earlier in the day in which a group of senior guys had taken some pot brownies off his hands. Before confirming with her, he double-checks his inventory on the notes app folder he has just to keep track of stock.

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

Should he have added a smiley face? No, that would have been creepy right?....

Y/n: Perfect :D ! I’ll take five, please!

Harry: No problem. Can I have the address, please?

She sends it not even a minute later. All concerns regarding driving a vehicle while high unethically fly out of his mind because honestly, he wasn’t even high anymore. Not even feeling it. She was only twenty minutes away, ten if he didn’t pay attention to laws.

Harry: I’m On my way!

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes.

And something about this house doesn’t feel right.

He didn’t realize it until the houses started looking nice and the parked cars on the side of the street started getting more expensive than the address she had provided him with was one on the wealthier side of town. He knew of a guy that lived here who everyone talked about because his method of acquiring money was sketchier than Harry’s, and well… that said a lot given that Harry sold drugs for a living.

The end of the driveway that he parks on is wide enough to be a two-way street. One of the lights flickered on by the motion sensor as Harry took his helmet out and shook his hair back. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t put on a shirt, and with his leather jacket left unzipped, his tattoos were on full display. The moonlight gleamed on the ridges of his abdomen, casting shadows across the markings on his skin. He was warm despite the chill in the air, and the cool drift of the night wind on his muscles was a welcome feeling.

Harry just didn’t realize how… devilish he looked. He appeared every bit the bad boy ready to sweep you off your feet in the summer, and the serious expression on his face added to the mystery. Wondering if this time she was able to hear his motorcycle from deep inside wherever she was in that mansion of the house, Harry kicked his stand down, hung his helmet on the handlebar, and took his phone out to let her know he was here.

Harry: I’m outside

Grey bubbles pop-up, squiggling like a little wave. And then…

Y/n: Be right there!

All of the breath in his lungs vacates his chest, and he gets warmer than he already was. Pacing the short lengths of his motorcycle, he wonders how he may get more nervous to see her every time he sees her. He never used to be this way, not even with a girl he wanted to talk up at a bar. There was a confidence within him, this shine that sprouted from knowing that he knew he was the shit, and he was going to use that to his advantage, to make a girl blush and stutter. Instead, she was the one to turn him inside out. He forgot all about basic manners around her. He forgot how to smile without questioning if his smile was wonky. He thought-

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight.

Coming from the front door, y/n is a wispy, gauzy mirage. Her feet are wobbly, and there’s a glass tumbler in her hand with a toothpick-skewered olive. She’s smiling so brightly at him, and this unrestricted happiness at his appearance alarms him. Where is the timid girl who speaks to him with a voice barely above a whisper? She must be drunk he thinks.

An itchy feeling he can’t shake off overcomes him because the girl is wearing a lacy slip dress that is so sheer, he can see her pink undergarments underneath. A white cardigan slides off her shoulders and hangs on to her elbow like a satin bow slipping loosely from a gift. He can’t decide if he wants to tie her back up or unravel her.

She runs the last few steps to him, and either she miscalculates her stop, or trips on a pebble because suddenly, she’s in his arms and he’s holding her upright. And he’s also breathing heavily because a rush of blood has made its way down to his cock and he knows she can see it pressing through his jeans and against her belly if the way her eyes go round is any indication.

Her drink slips from her hand, and shatters at their feet. The loud scattering of glass makes her jump, and an apology is clumsily stumbling from her mouth while she tries to pull herself from his embrace. Harry, however, tightens his hold. His fingers squeeze at her waist, and through the lace of her dress, he can feel the overlapping fabric of her panties. Without saying anything, he lifts her and takes a few steps to the side before setting her down away from the hazard.

“What-” her brows furrow, and her head tilts to the side. She isn’t rushing out of his arms now.

Interrupting her, Harry explains, “y’were about to step on the glass.”

“Oh,” y/n is back to whispering as her eyes travel all over his face, “thank you.”

With her in his arms, Harry has forgotten how to act. His mind is blank as a sheet of paper, and his lungs are expanding and contracting but oxygen isn’t really reaching him because he smells something sweet combined with alcohol on her warm breath. He sees how y/n’s facial expressions resemble that of a guppy fish, and he realizes that maybe he should let her go but he can’t because… because her fingers are shifting around his arms and she’s kind of shifting her weight and writhing and Harry still has a fucking boner so this is all-

He steps back, observing her shiver, and clears his throat. “Of course. Are you…are you cold?”

“Cold?” she asks. Her voice is silvery like the incantation of a church bell and he wants to fall to his knees are revere her, to beg for forgiveness, for her to cleanse him of all his sins. The night air has turned him into some kind of animal, he decides. The moon has transformed him into the hungry, howling wolf who will only be silenced by knowing her in the most carnal way. Meeting under the blanket of darkness has decided their fate.

“You’re shivering,” he states, voices unwavering and factual. That confidence he was missing before has somehow found its way back. Like tectonic plates, the tension has shifted in his favor. Harry gathers the courage to fix the cardigan on her shoulders.

His hands graze the cool skin of her biceps, and he doesn’t miss the way she textures with evidence of her intimidation. The way her breath stops altogether and he mumbles under his breath, “Just fixing y’up, darling. Y’can breathe, m’not gonna bite,” and she drops her arms at her side to let him help her, and then…

He feels the thin, sharp glide of her fingernails at his sternum. How can a single touch be so erotic? His jeans are too tight over his bulge, and fighting a groan, he exhales deeply, looking up at her to find her eyes droopy, staring at his butterfly tattoo. Her mouth moves around the shape of pretty before her eyes flicker up at him. They both freeze. Prey and predator, caught before the deadly pounce.

But y/n breaks their eye contact.

Harry drags the fabric up so it sits properly on her shoulders, and slides his fingers down to the front, so he can begin with the first button. His fingers drag unnecessarily like syrup on the skin right above her slip, and her audible gulp along with her choked, thank you check him back into his manners. She might have toyed with him, albeit unknowingly, but he welcomed it. He doubted that she was 100% sure if she wanted that reciprocated, so he stopped. As much as it hurt him to do so, he stopped.

At the last button, he reluctantly steps back, “All done, don’t want to get sick now, do you?”

And he manages a smile. It’s small, with just a bit of a cocky gap between his lips to white teeth. His hands slip into his front pockets, pulling his jeans forward subtly to give his dick some breathing room. He feels branded where she touched him, that sliver of skin hot with burning desire. Visions of them together flash behind his eyes like bits of a dream he’s trying hard to remember.

“You’re right,” she mumbles, “thank you.” Y/n wraps her arm around herself and can't seem to make eye contact with him.

The rational side of him that’s drowning in his tunnel vision reminds him that he’s there to do something (deliver drugs), so he moves around to the compartment and pulls out the paper bag. This time, it’s decorated in a field of smiling, dancing daisies sprouting from the bottom of the bag. “Here are your brownies,” giving her the bag, he laments that he’s going to have to leave her soon.

“How much do I owe you?” Y/n blinks up at him like she’s just barely waking up. Like she’s trying hard to stay focused, just like him. But that would be silly, Harry thinks, because there’s no way they share the same feelings. She only touched him because she’s drunk, or tipsy, and he’s just a drug dealer, and no matter how much of a boner he has for her, his dreams of rutting over her like a dog in heat aren’t going to come true. She’s too delicate for him.

He feels shitty taking money from her, but that is his livelihood, and chances were the douchebags buying from her probably threw more money at her than necessary given how rich they were. So, he tells her the total, and he hands him- just like he expected- crisp bills.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the money from her and shoving it into his compartment. His legs make no move to straddle his bike, even though that’s what his brain tells them to do. They’re not really listening to him though. And y/n stands them holding the bag, staring at the shattered glass and worrying her lip between her teeth. She’s not in any rush to get back inside, so Harry asks her a question- something that’s been on his mind ever since he left her the last time- to keep her out a little longer, “h-how was it? Last time, I mean. Smoking with those people?”

The girl straightens at the memory, suddenly energized. “Oh! I didn’t actually do it. They tried to get me to, but I didn’t in the end.”

Jerking his chin towards the bag in her hand, “Do y’plan on eating some of these?”

Y/n shakes her head, “Not really, I have work tomorrow. So does everyone else but,” she shrugs, pursing her lips a little and looks over her shoulder at the house. The relatively quiet house. “I already drank a little more than I should have.”

“I see.” Nodding, he’s left with no other choice but to reach for his helmet to put it back on. It’s time to leave. For the life of him, he can’t seem to figure out why such a sweet girl would continue to choose to hang out with people like this. Who drink and do drugs recklessly. He was concerned for her safety, and he made a mental note to ask Mitch about it. He wasn’t anyone to tell her what to do.

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t.

“Well, be safe, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you,” and she waves at him with a small, shy smile. The cardigan is already slipping off her shoulder even though it was buttoned up, and she turns around to walk back into the house.

Harry’s finally gotten to dozing off when his phone rings.

Blindly, he slaps his hand around and curses whoever is on the other end of the line for interrupting his maladaptive dreaming about y/n. He got home grumpy, slamming doors behind him and stomping around his own home. Feeling sorry for himself, he had turned on his Sade playlist and allowed her smoky voice to lull him to sleep. Creases had decorated the space between his thick brows, his pink lips literally turned upside down and occasionally he mumbled curse words at himself. In effort to relieve his own stress, he turned on a lavender candle, and it burned dimly on his bedside.

“Yeah?” He rasps sleepily into the phone, annoyance dripping from his voice.

There’s a couple of sniffles on the other end. This gets his attention, his eyes snapping open as his ears strain to listen, and then, “H-Harry?”

Was he still dreaming? Harry bolted upright from his bed, dragging a hand over his face. Was that actually y/n’s weepy, crying voice leaking through his speaker? He recognized the normally sweet voice, but instead of shy and timid, it was shaky and sad… maybe even a little panicked.

“Y/n?” Harry asked, spiking up in volume as a million-and-one scenario of her in danger played out in his mind. “What’s wrong?”

She hiccuped, “I-I was- Everyone was- They gave me a piece and said I should- But I didn’t want to and they- I don’t-” The poor girl was making no sense, and couldn’t seem to keep track of her thoughts, whether it be because she was too frazzled, or her irregular sobs stole the rest of her sentences and she would start new. The fact that he has just woken up, remnants of sleep leaving him more and more by the second, didn’t help either. He had to get her to calm down somehow.

“Sweetheart,” He interjected, repeating the endearment twice before she stopped talking long enough for him to get his word in. “ Listen to me… Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.”

Y/n made a long, keening noise, and something stirred his gut like the whirls of dark waters in turbulent seas. This wasn’t normal. She wasn’t herself, which only left one thing, “I’m trying but my skin feels weird and-”

She was having a bad trip.

Those fuckers have coerced her into taking something, whether it be the brownies he sold her, or some other drugs they had in the house. Y/n had taken drugs against her will, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with anyone there because these were the same people that bullied her at her workplace. The situation she was in, and the simple fact that they did not respect when she said no made his blood boil. He felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth, tail swiping low on the ground.

But his next thought cowed him.

If the drugs she had consumed were his brownies, did that mean he was partially to blame? He was responsible for there being something to press on her, to begin with, wasn’t he? He delivered them into her hands, which she then transferred to her party, and they turned it around on her. Harry was at the start of all of this.

He sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, swallowing back the sour taste that started at the back of his mouth and twisted his chest. Pushing all of it aside, he focused on her, “I know darling, I know. Close y’eyes. S’gonna be okay, y/n. Close your eyes.”

Rough, uneven breaths reverberated through his speaker, and he realized she was trying to calm herself. Harry wanted to scream and punch something. This is his fault. She was having a bad trip because of him. There were times when he was feeling generous and upped the milligram ingredient in his pastries, and he can’t remember if he did that this time but regardless, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt he’s ever felt this guilty. He could have said no, when she texted him. Or not respond at all. But he was selfish and wanted to see her. This is where his selfishness got him.

“M’kay.” She responds a little more sure, but it isn’t enough for him. He started this mess, now he has to fix it. He gets out of bed again, in such a rush that his duvet ends up strewn on the floor, and he reaches to tug his recklessly discarded jeans over his long legs. He yanks a burgundy knit sweater that he finds- also on the floor- but he’s not cold. He’s sweating with anxiety, and the sweater was just for her benefit. What if y/n is cold again? Harry has to be better not, he can’t fuck up with her anymore like this. He was going to take it off again as soon as he saw her and be shirtless again with his leather jacket.

With the device pressed between his shoulder and ear, he buttoned up his pants and shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he found, “Y’got your eyes closed f’me?”

“Yes, Harry,” she whimpers again, sounding so unsure, so small, and fuck, the crack down the middle of his heart grows. Closing your eyes while high was scary, especially if you were having a bad trip, Harry knows that having a handful of negative experiences himself, but it was the one thing he could think of right now. To get her to focus on his voice rather than anything going on around her. Wherever she was.

“Good girl. Now just listen to me, okay,” walking out of his room, he swiped his keys off his kitchen counter, and snagged his leather jacket from -surprise, surprise- off the floor right before entering the garage, “Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I think I’m in a bathroom,” y/n peeps a response.

“Alright, good. Good, sweetheart. Now how much did you take?” Putting the jacket on, Harry turns the key in the ignition and straddles his bike. He presses the button he keeps on his keys for the garage door, and walks his bike out. The street lamps in his neighborhood are on, illuminating patches of the concrete like polka dots.

There’s some noise in the background. It sounds like knocking and the call of her name. “M’not sure… maybe… maybe half? They’re knocking on the door, Harry.”

She’s so scared. For the first time, he realizes that she doesn’t trust anyone there. That’s why she was calling him. If there was, she would be resting her head in their lap, and talking things out with them. That’s what you do when you’re high. And this was her first fucking time doing any kind of drug? They made her take more than what she was supposed to.

“All at once? Don’t listen to them, sweetheart, focus on me.” This time, the timbre of his voice is livid. He didn’t take kindly to these kinds of things, and he was going to find some way to get back at all of them.

“Yeah, I took a bite only but Alana said I would be a party pooper if I didn’t eat more, so I did because everyone was watching.” There’s more noise, yelling. The knocking gets louder.

“Fuck!” Slapping his hand against his helmet, Harry tilts his head back and wills himself to calm down. He couldn’t drive like this.

She gasps, startled, “Did I do something wrong? Oh my God, am I going to die? Harry, am I-”

“Shh, no. No, y/n. Everything is going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay. Everything is going to be fine. Can you set a timer for eight minutes on your phone, and walk outside when it rings?” He nears the end of his driveway, shaking his head at his lack of restraint. He had to hold it together for her.

“Yeah,” she responds.

“Perfect, I’ll be right there. I’m coming to get you, okay?” He’s firm in his delivery, so she doesn’t have any reason to doubt him.

“Okay…” her single-word answer drags out, and he waits for her to say more. “Do you have to hang up?”

“I do, darling. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have a Bluetooth mouthpiece, so I won’t be able to hear you. It’s only eight minutes, I promise.” He decides not to pay attention to how easily the endearment terms are rolling off his tongue, and to the sure-ness in his sternum that was missing at the start of their meetings.

“Alright. Bye, Harry.”

He doesn’t say bye, because it isn’t one. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

***

On his five (FIVE!!!) minute drive to y/n, full of felonies and annoyed car horns, Harry decides two things. One, owning a motorcycle is probably the best decision he’s ever made because it allows him to do things like this, and two, he’s come to the conclusion that he no longer cares for social formalities, and he’s going to… honor his cravings as long as y/n lets him. He knows that the moment he gets there, he’s going to want to coddle her, tug her to his side, and hide her inside his jacket as much as he could, like a bear with food in the winter. Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to provide the feeling of safety if she needed it. In fact, he was eager to. He decides that just for today, it’s okay.

Because he gets there three minutes earlier than the time he told her, so even though he doesn’t have to, he rushes to park his bike, swinging off of it before it’s even rolled to a complete stop and jogging up the long driveway to wait by some bushes near the window. He was partially obscured from the front door, and he wanted to stay that way in case Y/n wasn’t the first person to walk out.

Sweat coated the back of his neck while the rest of him was ice cold. Looking each and every way, he took off his jacket and slipped off the knit sweater to slip it over her head as soon as he could. Harry listened intently, the ragged sound of his own breathing filling his ears as he tried to pick up on any noise that might indicate trouble, but all he heard was faint chattering and the occasional bout of loud, loopy chortles.

Momentarily after, those voices get louder, some of them aggressive, and there are sounds of movement. The heavy pattern of feet moving quickly, the scratch of furniture on the floor. Someone- a female- is asking where someone is going, and Harry knows it’s y/n. Running to the door, he makes it just as it swings open, and a very red-eyed y/n stands there, one hand on the door with her eyes on the floor. She’s mumbling, something over and over, and he thinks one of those words is his name.

He’s reaching out to encase her in his arms when she blinks a few times, slowly, like she's just waking up, and her eyes are dragging up her body to register his face.

Tilting her head to the side confusedly, she steps out, closes the door behind her, and mumbles, “Harry’s waiting for me.”

His heart melts and he feels the bursting of a thousand suns in his chest. Smiling down at her invertebrate state, with his eyes softening and a gentle caramel-like baritone streaming through the rough in his voice, “I’m here, darling. Come with me.”

Poor thing is so out of it, her eyes start to water, her chin trembling and her shoulders beginning to shake with the rattles of oncoming sobs. Had he spooked her? Her eyes were puffy and hooded, but he knows that doesn’t mean she can’t see him. Y/n is probably just overwhelmed, he thinks. She’s out in the dark and cold, high, and he’s a tall, scary figure looming over her. Voices inside are getting closer, their sentences running over each other so that he can’t really understand what they’re saying, only that they sound upset.

Ignoring the rumble that is bound to get to them, Harry kneels down to her level and takes hold of her cold trembling hands in his large ones, bringing them to his chest to get her to focus on him, “lovie, s’me,” he pleads for her to recognize him, “I’m Harry, I came f’you like I said I would, y/n.”

“Y/n!” A man inside, short and skinny but snooty looking with a sharp, shark-like face stalks towards them. His parade of three- two blonde girls and a dark-haired guy- follow behind him. They all have glasses in their hands. One of them had a cigarette. “What are you doing?”

At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.

“Baby-”

“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.”

They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds.

“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants.

With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.”

Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike.

All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.

“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.”

“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip.

They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly.

“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”

“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”

He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers.

Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down.

“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.”

“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”

“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”

“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest. “And you really think so?”

“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him. “Come sit behind me, love.”

Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat.

“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.”

“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition.

“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.

“Yes.”

She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.

***

“Who were those people?”

It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry.

He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him), shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies.

Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.”

So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.

He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her.

Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone.

Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”

“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”

Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool, but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie, “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”

With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?”

“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him.

Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her.

Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy.

What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts.

“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”

There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled. Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.”

“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants.

“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad.

Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table.

Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype.

“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.”

Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?”

Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”

“Where will you sleep?”

He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.”

“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed.

“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.”

“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m

He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.”

Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?”

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room. “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Y/n nods, “Okay.”

The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper.

It was going to be a long night.

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling.

Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.

And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.

Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what.

He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.”

A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken.

“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped.

Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”

“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.”

Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…”

Realization dawned on in.

No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac.

Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny.

“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him, “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.”

Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.”

It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do.

If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions.

He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”

Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.”

His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked.

“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes. “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.”

Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?”

“I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him.

Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.”

Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.”

“Ask nicely.”

The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.”

Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.”

Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.”

“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around.

“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and…

And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy.

“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles.

Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear, “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?”

Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace.

Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold. Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it.

“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?”

She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”

“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,” Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?”

He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her.

“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set.

“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants.

“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her.

He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white.

“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”

“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers.

Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”

“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth.

He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths.

“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”

“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly.

“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving.

The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion.

Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.”

She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”

“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him.

“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go.

With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky.

“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”

Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”

“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”

“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting.

“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short.

Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”

“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”

Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”

“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him.

“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.”

There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”

“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times.

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?”

“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness.

“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”

“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after.

“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”

“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies.

“Does it, baby?”

“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat.

“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them.

“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes.

“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth.

Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-”

“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.”

Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…

But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much.

“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.”

Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips.

So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face.

They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them.

“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms.

#harry styles blurbs #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

simpxxstan · 2 months

Note

i’ve just finished reading your wonwoo!fics from the 550 followers event and i decided i need to request something myself because they were just TOO GOOD

given that, i thought about police officer!wonwoo (or mingyu, i wouldn’t mind—) who’s like super handsome and hot and all but also super nice and helpful and loves cats and—

and maybe he’s living in the same neighbourhood as y/n and they just feel drawn towards each other? idk, i’m not really good at making up scenarios 😭😭

it can go both ways, starting fluffy and then get smutty or angsty, everything’s gonna be fine <3

all i know is that i need to read something from you again 🫶🏼🫶🏼

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! so firstly, I apologise if I disappoint you because instead of wonu, I did mingyu, because I had this wildest fantasy about him but I hope you like it still!! And I also added a few twists in the plot, because I wanted to spice it up a bit. I really pray you'll enjoy my version too!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

also, thank you to everyone who's interacted with the event <333 your enthusiasm is so so much appreciated! the event is still on till the end of this month so you can still send in requests, my inbox is open hehe :) also to those who have sent in requests, T_T i am SOR SORRY for making you wait but honestly i am trying my best :((( i will answer your request as soon as i can, thank you for your patience <3

genre: strangers to lovers, police and criminal au, smut, fluff, neighbours au

word count: 5k words

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT police officer!mingyu, discussions of illegal racing, gangs, criminals, criminal activities, gambling (but nothing is explicit except the racing activities). smut warnings: unprotected sex (please please do not do this irl), almost public sex, oral (m. receiving), making out, usage of pet names, size kink, mingyu's a perv for reader

It's been six months since Mingyu has shifted to this town, and he's not regretted it a single day. it's a wonderful, quaint little town, on the edge of the city, that's close enough to the hustle but far enough to not be a site for trouble. The people are lovely and they've really accepted him with a full heart- the old ladies who bring him their delicious cooked food during his lunch breaks, the young boys who follow his gym routine meticulously, the mothers who either shamelessly flirt with him or try to set up their children with him, the fathers who pat his back proudly after a long day of work, the children who run around his clean police station with curious eyes.

After his busy five years in his posting at the city, this feels like heaven to him. He had joined the force in his craving for adrenaline and his innate nature of being helpful to everyone had driven him deeper into the profession. But he's twenty-seven now, and maturity has dampened the fire within his soul, although not his desire for social peace and justice- hence his choice to shift here.

It's not a town renowned for crime, and most of his days are peaceful with minor reports of petty theft or pickpocketing. But Mingyu has his fair share of excitement- being on the outskirts of the city, the edges of the town are less tame than the heart of it. It's a den for many gangs- all linked by the illegal racing grounds outside the town. Mingyu doesn't have any way to reach the gangs- they're being pursued by the force in the bigger cities with far more resources than sanctioned to his police station. But he tries to ensure the gangs and their dirty business doesn't get into his town. And Mingyu has his hands full with it.

But being busy keeps Mingyu happy. He's loved by the townsfolk and he's found a kind of peace here, different and yet beautiful. It's a slow town, and he's fallen into a routine that's good for his slowing-down body and his slowing-down mind.

So it's been a long, long day of work and at the end of the week, he's tired and ready to fall into his bed after eating anything that's in the fridge. But when he's walking up the stairs of his apartment building, his eyes meet a scene that's out of routine.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Mingyu walks up quickly as he sees you struggle to pull up two suitcases up the stairs, along with the clearly heavy rucksack on your back. "No! Thanks, no, I'm fine." "Please allow me, I live right here on this floor." And Mingyu casually picks up the suitcases, with a smile on his face. He doesn't miss the ways your body relaxes instantly and your eyes light up. "Umm, I'm here on this floor too. Just moved in into 309." "And I'm in 311. Right across your flat!" "I'm so happy to meet a neighbour already. I'm Y/N." "And I'm Mingyu."

And Mingyu feels the exhaustion of the day wear out when he sees your whole smile- not a tight-lipped smile, but the one that shows your teeth and your dimples. Well, dimple. There's only one big dimple on your left cheek, and it's a beautiful smile that stays on Mingyu's mind long through the night after you disappear into your flat and Mingyu goes into his own.

Mingyu doesn't know why he's suddenly choosing to skip his daily gym routine in favour of a run through the town at 5.30 am (nearly an hour before he's ever woken up in his entire life). Maybe one day he wakes up at 5.30 to use the washroom but spots you leave the building in your jogging shorts and earplugs. He joins the dots and his body joins them too- safe to say, he couldn't sleep again that morning. And neither the morning after that, because he's determined to join you on your run.

You don't talk much except brief interactions, and your speed is much faster than him, but he doesn't mind the exhaustion. The wink you throw him every time he lags behind and the bottle of water you offer him right after you drink from it too is enough motivation for him to keep running. Of course it helps that you compliment the way his muscles strain through his tank top and Mingyu's chest blows up even further with pride.

And it's so subtle, but Mingyu feels you slowly open up more to him.

It's in the won't you come in for coffee? I make a mean iced coffee.

It's in the I was shopping for groceries and brought you cooking oil, since you were asking for it yesterday. I thought you may not have had the time to go for shopping, since you're so busy at work.

It's in the see this magnet? my baby cousin made it.

And Mingyu goes to you like a moth drawn to a flame. He's drawn to you when he decides to take you out (for a friendly afternoon outing, he calls it officially, but internally he's treating it as a date). He's drawn to you when you show him around the veterinary where you work. He's drawn to you when he sees you eating ice cream on his couch after he's cooked dinner for the two of you. He's drawn to you when you barely touch his arm and tell him that you really like all your neighbours and the entire community in the town is great, but you're especially glad to have found Mingyu because he's one of the only people here who's near your age. And he's drawn to you when you smile for him, that rich, dimpled smile, after he tells you that you're exactly the friend he's been looking for since he's come here.

After that, Mingyu doesn't know what happens in what order. Do you kiss him first? Or does he kiss you first? Do you climb into his lap? Or does he pull you onto him? Do you bite his lip when his hands wander down to your ass that he's been eyeing for weeks now on every morning run? Or does he bite your lip when your hands weave through his hair? It's a blur, and when you pull back for a breath, your lips swollen, the first button of your shirt open, and a hickey already blooming near your collarbone, Mingyu knows only one thing. How he wants. Wants you. Wants more. Wants now-

"Mingyu, I- I don't know how to say this... it's not like I didn't like this. And I- I- umm. Maybe I should leave? Because if I stay I won't be able to hold back and I want to think about this a little bit?"

And oh, your eyes are so wide and so pretty, and the skin of your arms feel like butter under his touch, but he lets you go. He lets you walk away, a shy smile on your lips. He lets you kiss him on his cheek once before disappearing into your own flat, and Mingyu shuts the door and takes deep breaths as he leans on his door.

He's ready to give you all the time in the world to think, but he's sure that he's already yours. He just knows at the end of it, he needs to make you his too.

"Hello, darling."

The tone on the other end is unmistakable, and Mingyu sighs. "Don't try to seduce me, love. It's not gonna work." He's said this before, but the message clearly hasn't gotten through. The honey voice drawls on in a painfully slow pace, "You're late tonight. What's up?" "I was busy," he huffs, his heart still beating fast from making out with you a few minutes ago.

"Busy? Unbelievable." "A police officer can't be busy? Is it so unfathomable?" "No. What's unfathomable is that Kim Mingyu is off his routine. I wonder if there's something new... or someone new?"

The voice laughs, and Mingyu knows it's friendly prodding. His relationship with the person on the other side of the line might be anything but friendly but it's yet again become a part of his routine, and at least the friendly banter breaks the monotony.

"Are you jealous that I talk to women apart from you?" Mingyu smirks, knowing two can play this game.

"I'm jealous that she's taking up my time. You have to show her what's her place, really."

"Don't be rude love. You know I've got my ears on your voice only. Now, tell me if you have any news."

"Oh, getting straight to the point, I see..."

"Oh come on!"

The voice becomes serious instantly. Gone is the sexy drawl, and it's replaced by crisp words that are music to Mingyu's ears. "I've heard Taffy's gang making some noise in the borders. You might wanna come and look at it once for yourself."

"Do you have any more information?"

"Nothing much right now, officer. Look, I'm holding up my end of the bargain but you've got to be patient."

Mingyu groans. It's not good news, and it's certainly not enough news. But he'll take a look himself to make sure he understands the graveness of the situation correctly.

"Okay. When should I come? Tell me when Taffy's men are lurking around the area?"

The voice shifts again into a teasing, seductive tone, making Mingyu jerk at the sudden transition.

"Come tomorrow? Race night."

"Yeah no that's not happening. I'll-"

"Tomorrow, babe. Wanna see you race. A big boy like you likes his fast bikes, don't you?"

The thought of racing sends a spike of adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he knows this is illegal. It's one thing allowing the leader of the races to become his informant so that he can keep an eye on the circuit as well as get key pieces of information that remain hidden to the legal eye. But it's an entirely different thing getting into the centre of the mess himself and be involved in it.

And yet, a part of him wants to feel the thrill again. Tonight, after years, he felt that adrenaline rushing through him when you'd tugged at his collar and kissed him repeatedly. Fuck. It had felt good, hadn't it? One night won't matter, will it?

"I'll be there."

"Fantastic. Can't wait to see you, babe."

Mingyu doesn't see you the next morning. He waits outside your door at 5.30, but doesn't knock, hoping you'll come out eventually. But you don't. He doesn't spot you through the rest of the day either, and it makes him worry. But he's decided to give you your space and time, so he will be patient... at least for one more day.

It's a Sunday so Mingyu has a half-day at work. When he's back from work, his mind is still all over the place. Should he even go to the race tonight? He's raced a bit back in college days, but everything pretty legal. Nothing like the den of vice he knows he's going to walk into tonight. But he also knows that this is the best way for him to infiltrate through the layers of middlemen that stop information from reaching his ears.

By the time 8.30 comes around, there's no text from you. Instead, there's a text from his informant, saved under the codename of layla (he knows it's not her real name, but he doesn't care enough to ask about it).

I'll see you at the circuit tonight, darling. Don't be late.

Mingyu's heart speeds up. Is it wrong to feel excited right now? As a conscientious police officer, he should definitely not feel excited. But as nothing more than a man, he feels his blood become warm at the thought of meeting the woman behind that voice he's spoken to for almost three months now. He's almost 100% sure the voice isn't generated by a voice modifier or AI, but it's also impossible for that to be someone's real voice, so there must be some pitch changes or something along those lines. Nevertheless, their conversations has often made him wonder about the woman herself.

She's a shadow- no one really knows who she is. But about four months ago, when she'd called him up herself to supply information in order to buy protection for herself and her racing infrastructure, Mingyu had yielded instantly by weighing his priorities. And since then, he's tried endless times to put a face to the voice, but it's been a search in vain.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he's gonna see the face for himself and put all his wandering thoughts to rest. Thoughts late at night after a particularly long phone call with his informant, that made him wonder whether the flirting was real or all for show. Wonder whether the woman herself would be as sexy as the voice. And wonder what kind of woman she must be in order to be capable enough to singlehandedly run an entire illegal racing system.

Fuck it, Mingyu thinks, after seeing the clock strike 8.45 and still no contact from your end. He wears a black tank top along with a black leather jacket- intending to fit right into the crowd he expects to see there. He just hopes there's no one else there who'll recognise him. And he certainly hopes nothing will happen to make him regret this decision for life.

You're such a fool, Mingyu, he thinks to himself. You're such a fool for thinking you'd fit in.

Mingyu may be just twenty-seven but he doesn't feel young at all when he sees the crowd at the race. The people here must be of his age, but they all seem so different from him. Perhaps it's because his job has taken away his youth that he'll always feel perpetually distant from even people of his own age.

And so Mingyu stands there awkwardly, stiff amidst a crowd of half-drunk and half-high people, wearing colourful headbands and smearing eclectic neon colours on their skin. He feels out of place- and yet, a part of him wishes he could fit in. He wishes he could have enjoyed his youth like this- on the edge of the other side of the law. He wishes he could have lived like this for even moment of his life- beyond academics, beyond career, beyond mere survival.

"Hi beautiful, looking for someone?" A woman with a cigarette between her fingers strolls up to him. Her hair is flying in the wind, exposing the tattoos all over her skin.

Before Mingyu can say anything, the crowd around him suddenly erupts in loud cheers, and she quickly pulls his hand and drags him towards the centre of the entire crowd. He sees two bikers mount on their bikes- exquisitely reworked to glow in the dark. A woman hops up on a platform in the middle of the two bikers and lifts a gun towards the sky. And as the crowd counts down, she shoots the gun right after 1 and the two bikers zoom out into the blackness ahead, the crowd going wild with cheers for the biker they support.

The scene makes Mingyu's skin feel alive too- the sheer speed of the two bikes, the sound of the engines revving and the general merriness around him induces adrenaline to flow through his veins. When he turns to look at the woman next to him, he sees her looking at him with a curious smile on her face. "Umm, I'm... I'm not really here for the race."

"You're not? Layla told me you would be." The smile on her face deepens, and Mingyu gasps. "You know Layla?" "I do. But that's not important. Let's get you on a bike, hmm?" Mingyu's somehow missed to noticed how her hand's still on his arm, gently stroking his bicep over his jacket. "No, really I don't want to." She steps right up close to him, "But you can try once, pretty boy." Her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, but Mingyu doesn't care. "I don't want to try." "Let loose for one night." "I'm not here for fun. I'm here for work-" The woman in front of his laughs. "Yes Layla said that too. Don't worry, she's going to work. But only after you race against her."

Mingyu feels his heart speed up. Race against Layla? Fuck. Now, why does that sound so tempting? It makes him only more curious to meet his informant, because why must she make herself so mysterious?

"Are you her friend?" Mingyu knows that this woman is not Layla, because the voice doesn't match by miles. This woman here has a lisp in her voice, unlike Layla's clear diction, and no amount of pitch changing or machine alterations can change that (Mingyu knows that the hard way).

"I'm her sister. Well, kind of. Now, no more questions pretty boy. Next race starts in a few minutes. Let's get you on a bike!" And Mingyu finds himself in no position to protest as the woman drags him away without hearing him anymore.

In the blink of an eye, Mingyu finds himself on a beautiful beast of a motorbike, his entire body drunk on adrenaline. There's so many people he's never even met before, but they're hyping him up. The attention-whore in him goes crazy at the cheers. There's coloured smoke being released into the sky, and Mingyu wears his helmet to prevent it from clouding his eyes. And finally when the smoke fades away, he sees his opponent standing along side him.

Layla.

Fuck.

Still no face to the voice in his head, but it's still an enigmatic visual that draws Mingyu in and reels his mind. He watches the way her black latex pants hug her long legs as she swings her legs over her bike. And he watches the way her helmet covers her face but her hair's still flying in the air. There's something still mysterious about her, and yet so oddly familiar.

But before he can say or do anything, the crowd begins the countdown, and in a second, the gunshot goes off. And Mingyu zooms ahead, revving his engine from 0 to 100 in a moment, a smile spreading on his face as the excitement of the speed injects itself in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Layla take a spin around the corner of the racetrack, her stable figure undeterred by the sharp turn. Mingyu may not be a professional, but it's not the first time he's racing. He's done this before and he can feel that familiar thrill returning, as he picks up speed and makes up his mind to defeat his worthy opponent.

It's a long and winding course, but to Mingyu it feels like a few minutes only. The cold night air hits his body and makes him feel like he's flying. Soon the ending flag is in sight, and he sees Layla speed up, hunching over her bike, determined to get there first.

But at the last minute, she steps back, her posture loosening as she sits back and watches Mingyu whizz off ahead of her.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath. Knowing she let him win easily hurts his ego, and he slows the bike down as they drive into the nothingness of the deserted roads ahead. When he finally comes to a stop, he gets off the bike and sees her stand a few metres away from him, her helmet still on her head stretching her legs.

"Hey! Layla! You let me win! I would've won anyway- fair and sq-"

Layla spins around and takes off her helmet, her hair whipping across her face, and Mingyu finally sees the face behind the voice.

"Y/N?" Mingyu's eyes are wide, his brain running as fast as his bike was a short while back, as he tries to connect the dots.

The voice is unmistakable, now slightly higher in pitch, and Mingyu wants to kick himself as he realises how big a fool he's been. "We finally meet, Kim Mingyu." There's a beautiful smile on your face, one he's not seen before. There are other things too- there's a nose pin on your button nose, making your features look sharper, and a necklace hanging off your neck, which is odd since he's never seen you wear jewellery before.

"Y/N? H- wh- how?!"

You don't answer him. You simply walk towards him, your hips swaying and Mingyu groans at the sight of your pretty legs in those tight pants. Fuck him for not recognising that ass sooner in spite of being obsessed with it for weeks.

"I thought I should come clean to you, officer, before you make any choices." You casually slot yourself between his legs, as Mingyu leans back against his motorbike. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

He thinks he's a fool for not finding out more about you before falling for you. He thinks he's a fool for maintaining a contact with someone as dangerous as La- you. And he thinks he's a fool for finding you even sexier after discovering this persona of yours.

And he thinks he would be a fool with regrets for all his life if he lets go of you now.

So Mingyu grabs onto your hips, and pulls you closer.

"You've got me by my balls, baby. Got me eating out of your hand. And you know I happen to like it. So it doesn't matter what I think, love. What matters is what you think." His fingers rub against the skin exposed as your crop top rises up as you dangle your hands around his shoulders. You laugh at his words, pressing even closer to him, the air between you two turning to electricity. "It doesn't matter what I think either- because I'd fallen for you ages ago when I first saw you around in town. The new, dashing police officer, Kim Mingyu, enquiring about gangsters and fending himself off prying old ladies at the same time. Since then I've just wanted to make you mine." Mingyu's heart hasn't stopped thumping loudly all night, and at your confession, his body tingles with a dangerous feeling.

"Glad we're on the same page, baby."

"This is my office," you whisper to him in between kisses as you drag him to a shady-looking room at the back of the building that's on the edge of the racing circuit, now deserted because everyone's busy at the races. "Office?" Mingyu giggles, because the term is ridiculous. The place is anything but an office- with the way dishevelled boxes are just stacked everywhere, and instead of desks there are more pool tables and boxes of alcohol. It's a small, dingy place, and the single tubelight at the end of the corridor flickers every other minute, but it's a vibe. Mingyu's not unfamiliar with seedy places in his line of work, but it's so novel to think this is where you truly work.

But fuck him if he doesn't think it just makes you hotter. Because there's something about you being the boss of a pack of hundred delinquents associated with even more hardened criminals that makes his dick chub up real quick.

Like it is right now, when your hands make quick work of removing his jacket and throwing it on the floor as you touch his bare muscle. Mingyu carelessly runs a hand through his hair as he sees you push him onto a chair on a desk that's in your office, the room lit only by the mercy of the distant tubelight and the moonlight streaming in through the window panes. "Fuck, you're so big Mingyu. Let me blow you? Please? Wanted to do this for so long." Your eyes are so pretty as you bend in front of him, fingers lazily rubbing into the tent in his pants, making him hiss. "Go on, baby. Whatever you like. Fuck, but kiss me once more."

And you do. You taste like berries, and Mingyu loves it. Mingyu knows he's got it bad, but he doesn't care. You're on your knees and you want to blow him, and if this isn't the mental image to which he's jerked off for days now, he'd be damned. So he pushes you down in between his knees after kissing you to his heart's content, and you quickly take off his pants. "God," you almost drool and Mingyu whimpers when you take off his boxers too. "You're so fucking big, Gyu. Never seen such a big, pretty cock," you say reverently, as you pump it and it twitches in your hands. Your eyes go wide when you lick it and fit your mouth barely against the tip, and Mingyu throws his head back and moans. He's not going to last long, if just this much has got him feeling like this.

Thankfully, you don't tease him much, eager to feel the heavy weight on your tongue too. So you take him as much as your throat allows, and Mingyu feels himself on the brink of heaven. When you bob your head a couple of times, Mingyu reaches down to tug your hair back and you moan around his cock. The vibrations send him over, and he cums into your mouth even as you continue to suck him. When you finally pull off with a pop, another squirt from his dick leaves a string of white cum on your lips and Mingyu feels himself getting hard again.

"That was so hot baby. You're so hot," he says, as he picks you up from the floor and on the desk. It's so easy for him to manhandle you like that, and you pull him close quickly. "You're hotter, Gyu. Can't tell you what fantasies I've had about you in these last few months." Mingyu smirks, his hands removing your beautiful pants, and spreading your thighs apart as he feels his way through your folds. "Umm? Really? Now don't be a bad girl, and tell me what you've thought about me."

You open your mouth to say something but then Mingyu pinches your clit, and any words fall away as you moan out loudly. Your hands steady themselves on his biceps as Mingyu begins to finger you painfully slowly- to the extent that he can hear the squelching sounds, and it drives him crazy.

"Tell me, Y/N."

When your breathing slows down as you feel Mingyu driving two fingers into you at a steady pace, his eyes fixed on yours, biting his lip in concentration, you tell him softly.

"Before I shifted into the flat... I wondered what you'd be like from up close. Because I'd only seen you from afar. And after hearing your v- aaah- voice, it just got worse." You feel Mingyu stretching you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he kissed your neck.

"And then when I did shift in... fuck. It was so hard to not give in to you. Whenever you looked at me with your puppy eyes and y- y- your smile- ah, fuck I'm g- gonna cum, Mingyu!" You scream as he fingers you through your orgasm, and he licks his fingers clean once you come down from your high.

"Then who asked you to not give in to me?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd like me in real life and not judge me simply as an informant." Your simple, vulnerable words take his breath away, and Mingyu pulls off your top in one go. "Fuck, you're so cute baby. I'd like you in every form, in every life. You drive me crazy, do you know that?" And Mingyu knows that now, as you hold on to his shoulders as he enters you in one go. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. Tighter than your pretty mouth, fuck." He's trying so hard not to cum right now, but as you grip his hair and moan filthily, a stream of curses falling off your pretty lips, Mingyu lets his adrenaline take over. And he thrusts into you without any hesitance, hips moving fast, his balls heavy as he slams against you again and again. The desk creaks, and you pant in his ears, begging him to go harder, and Mingyu can feel the way your pussy clenches him at every thrust.

"Gonna cum, Gyu. Please-" Your nails dig into his nape, and it drives him over the edge. When you come along with him, there's a sharp buzz spreading through his body and he feels like he's gone to heaven.

He holds you close like that for the next few minutes, unable and uninterested in letting you go. When you both finally feel the high subside, you look up at him, a hazy smile on your face. "I really like you, Gyu. I hope you can like me too beyond who I am in this racing circuit. Trust me, it's.... it's not my entire life. I am a person bey-"

He kisses you quiet. "Stop explaining yourself." You try to protest, but he kisses you again. "You know Y/N, I think I liked you from the first day I met you. And I get what you're saying but... trust me. Fuck. I don't know how to say this. But safe to say if I thought you were amazing as Y/N? I think you're absolutely the epitome of perfection as Y/N plus Layla. So hot, so gorgeous, and I love every bit of you."

And then there's that single-dimpled smile again.

"I also like the nose pin. Why'd you take it off?"

You giggle, "Didn't want it to be a deal-breaker once I had my mind set on you."

Mingyu kisses your nose at the pin itself and you shiver in his arms.

"Nothing about you can be a deal-breaker, baby."

214 notes · View notes

the-elf-draws · 2 years

Photo

Been too busy with IRL work to draw clean fanart, but recently I've been drawing more loose sketches!

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #kageyama shigeo #???%#eye strain #just in case #aka me going ham with Photoshop effects #not very groundbreaking but incredibly fun to do

2K notes · View notes

kestisvrse · 6 months

Text

proximity, part 9

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader smau & irl

🩹

series | prev | next

specific cw: blood, injury detail

———————————————————

the infirmary hadn’t been this busy in years.

luckily it cleared out fairly quickly with most injuries being kids getting cut from trees or falling on their knees, quick and easy to patch up.

some were more severe than others, actual cuts from swords on accident, the no maiming rule had apparently been ignored this game.

the worst one was at the end of the game, the conch echoed throughout camp. only one bed in the infirmary remained empty, others being taken up by people currently being stitched up or ones resting.

the front doors burst open, causing you to whip your head around being the only one not currently working. chris led in luke castellan hanging on his shoulder.

his helmet had been discarded, revealing a cut on his cheek and his left side covered in dirt. your eyes trailed down to his hand that clutched his right side, his orange camp shirt seeping with blood.

“oh my gods?!” you exclaimed, running forward to help chris lead the weaker boy to the empty bed. he groaned as he sat down, applying pressure onto his wound as you pulled on gloves, “what happened?”

“some ares kid i forget his name.” chris said, hand on luke’s shoulder, “luke grabbed the flag and he didn’t like the idea of losing.”

you narrow your eyes at chris, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “i’ll take it from here chris, go clean up.”

you sat back in your chair sighing, luke stared at you with a smirk. his bloodied shirt had been discarded to the floor, his stomach stained red with blotchy spots around the stitches you had just finished. exhausted from the day and the worry about luke you plopped in the seat across from him after cleaning up.

“worried about me?” he questioned, a tight lipped smile on his face, trying to act innocent.

“yeah actually, i was.” you said plainly, staring daggers at him, “we both know you are smarter than that, how did you let him get a hit?”

he shrugs, fiddling with the pockets of his cargo shorts, “slipped up i guess.”

you don’t respond in any way, not a subtle body movement, just staring at him.

“i’m fine. you stitched me up.” he said, to which you nodded.

“doesn’t change how terrified i was when you first walked in, luke.” you whispered, he leaned forward as if he had trouble hearing you which he almost did. you stood up to pace the room, interrupted by his rough hand gripping yours, dragging you to stand in between his legs, hand hovering over your waist, scared to touch you.

“i care about you. there i said it, happy?” you admitted, staring down at his brown eyes. a blush appeared on his cheeks as a lopsided smile appeared on his lips.

“that’s all i wanted to hear.” he responded, not taking his eyes off you, “how about a kiss to make me feel better.”

“it would be evil of me to say no, wouldn’t it?”

“yeah actually, i got stabbed i think you have to.” he muttered, placing a finger to his chin like he was thinking, you shook your head biting your lip to hide a grin (it didn’t work.), but he didn’t have time to process your facial expressions when you finally connected your lips to his.

it felt like something he had been waiting years to do, his stomach bursting with a fluttery feeling that made him feel anxious, but it didn’t stop him from kissing back.

his lips were rough, having bit them to distract himself from the pain earlier, while yours felt like you had just put on chapstick, cherry to be specific.

which you had.

he almost pulled you on top of him had a scream not interrupted you, both pulling apart to stare at the door.

clarisse, chris and silena stood there, jaws basically touching the ground as their eyes popped out of their heads.

———————————————————

tags ⋆ @rosieandthethorns @luvvfromme @pleasingregulus @taelattecookie @csifandom @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @annybah @fxiryeon @yourgirl-mila @harrysnovia @jacqulinm05 @balletfilmss @candylandy8173 @aheheb @ohheyitsrowan @eubybubble @kidkrowk @coconut-dreamz @mehrmonga @auras-moonstone @notacluelessblonde00 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @pipravi4life @witch-demon @gitchagitchyayadada @amortencjja @svnny-days @yuminako @ily-promise @beedeebee @ahh-chickens @ssparksflyy @remussbitch @cherryynovaa @bibblesdiscordkitten @m00ng4z3r @awezomezauce @happy-mushrooms @mxtokko @idli-dosa

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo smau #sienna’s fics #luke castellan smau #luke castellan x you #luke castellan au #pjo #pjo x reader #smau

237 notes · View notes

wongyuseokie · 1 year

Text

One Trick Peony | c.s.c

Summary: Choi Seungcheol could only do one type of floral arrangement, and the rest he’d pawn off to you, granted he got a ton of orders, but he would always take the orders for arrangements that he could never do. This time he went too far. He took an ‘only peonies’ arrangement–a painfully delicate flower–and took an order for a wedding, and with your luck, you’re the only two florists available that weekend.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ mild angst | ♥ completed works Word Count: 4885 words Pairings: Florist!Choi Seungcheol x Florist! Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst, smut, frenemies to lovers, idk if thats the right word they just have a ton of digs at each other but no actual hate.

Content Warnings: Arguing, but it’s all very childish. Cheol being a slight smartass, but Y/N also being a bit mouthy. Idiots to lover makes more sense, both are dense af. Kissing, mentions of food. Inaccurate depictions of being a florist, idk. Loud and noisy kids destroying things. Moment of self doubt.

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), oral (f receiving), sorta dom! Cheol, rough sex (but its more vanilla), big dick! Cheol, multiple orgasms, squirting, riding, overstimulation, creampie, cum licking, hickies, kissing, phew I think that’s it. Cheol is an after care king.

Authors Note: This has been written for svthub's secret garden collab. Thank you all for letting me be part of this wonderful collab. Please check out the rest of the works written by my talented friends 💕 Banner Credits: @classicscreations

Cross Posted to AO3

You knew hate was a strong word, but that was all you could feel for your coworker, Choi Seungcheol. When Seungcheol first joined the flower shop, you didn’t mind him. You realised he was only capable of making one floral arrangement.

At first, you found it cute. You’d help him, teach him, but after a while, you realised he didn’t even pay attention, and that’s when your pettiness began, and Seungcheol matched it by being extra petty.

“Choi Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, knowing he hated being called by his full name.

“How many times do we have to go over this, Y/N? I don’t like being called by my first name?” Seungcheol complained, and you rolled your eyes at his whining. Seungcheol whined a lot. You’d never admit it, but it was adorable. A grown man who was tall and buff whined like a toddler. Only Seungcheol could be that cute, but he didn’t have to know.

“Why is there an order in the system for a wedding?” You questioned. “You know that we are short-staffed right now.”

“Look. I do, but it’s only a wedding with 80 people, and this lady and her husband waited for their wedding for five years because life kept getting in the way. You wouldn’t deny a couple of that joy, would you?” Seungcheol asked hopefully, grinning widely at you.

“Besides, I told them that the best florist in Seoul was the only choice for their special day,” Seungcheol boasted, and you scoffed.

“Of course I am, but you? You won’t even bother helping. It’ll just be me doing all the work,” you complained.

“I’m an excellent supervisor,” Seungcheol added.

“No, you’re just a pain in my ass,” you mumbled.

“Oh? You know I could help take the pain away,” Seungcheol teased, and you glared at him.

“I will break a flower vase over your pretty head if you even try,” you threatened.

“You think my head is pretty?” Seungcheol asked, and you glared at him again before storming into the back room.

“So, how do you want to get to the venue?” Seungcheol asked you later that evening as you were cleaning up your station. The shop was bustling, and all the arrangements came to you because Seungcheol was incompetent and too busy wooing more customers to buy more flowers without concern for your workload.

“What venue?” You asked, gritting your teeth.

“Ouch? What’s gotten you so huffy?” Seungcheol asked.

“You’re no help, and now you’re here trying to be chatty,” you spat.

“I got you so many orders, though!” Seungcheol protested.

“I didn’t need them. You know I’m busy,” you fired back, and Seungcheol frowned.

“Hey!” A voice interrupted, and you turned to see your manager staring at you and Seungcheol disapprovingly.

“Look, I don’t know if this is a situation of lovers who are too blind to confess, so they just verbally abuse one another? Or if you two hate each other, cut it out, at least for the weekend. This wedding would be huge for this business, and after that, we can discuss a plan or something that involves less interaction with you both, but for two days. I need you to behave. Can you do that?” Your manager asked, and you looked at Seungcheol, who avoided your gaze.

“Yes, I can. I don’t know about her,” Seungcheol said, throwing you a cunning smile.

“Seungcheol,” your manager warned, making him pout.

“You see what I have to put up with?” You complained, and your manager glared at you.

“Two days, just two days, make it work,” your manager pleaded, looking at you and Seungcheol, and you both sighed before nodding and agreeing.

For the sake of your job, you both would make it work.

Choi Seungcheol [7:58 am]: Morning, darling, I’m downstairs. On time, the flowers shall be delivered to the venue. I got you coffee, so please make your way down if you don’t want to get stuck in traffic.

You [7:59 am]: Yeah, I’ll be down.

Choi Seungcheol [8:00 am]: So cold, should have gotten you something warm to drink instead…

Choi Seungcheol [8:01 am]: See you soon, kitten, xoxo.

You let out a groan, kitten? How dare he call you that, and not just because that word had you feeling a certain way, but kitten? Who did he think he was?

You grumbled to yourself, grabbed your duffle bag, and made your way out of your apartment, triple checking to ensure you locked the door four times before heading downstairs to find Seungcheol.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Seungcheol greeted, and you shot him a look.

“Why the nicknames?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be friendly.”

“Well, it’s weird, so stop,” you mumbled.

“Fine, Y/N,” Seungcheol answered with a pout.

“Shall we? It’s a bit of a drive, and I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” you offered.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh, before I forget, here I put your coffee and some breakfast muffins for snacking,” Seungcheol offered as he pointed to the console.

“This is really kind of you, thank you.”

“See, I can be considerate,” Seungcheol bragged.

“Yeah, one coffee and breakfast muffin won’t change how much of a pain you are at work,” you teased, making Seungcheol pout.

“But you’re off to a good start Choi Seungcheol,” you added, making Seungcheol groan.

“I told you I don’t like my full name being used,” Seungcheol whined.

“Okay, why, though?”

“It feels distant, detached and cold. I feel like I’m being told off,” Seungcheol mumbled.

“To be fair, whenever I use your full name, I am usually telling you off,” you joked, making Seungcheol frown more.

“You can just yell at me. That’s better than full naming me,” Seungcheol offered with a grin.

“You got a degradation kink or something?” You asked.

“No, but I’ll tell you my kinks if you tell me yours,” Seungcheol teased with a grin.

“Shut up.”

You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but the next thing you knew was Seungcheol was gently shaking you awake.

“Hey, Y/N, we’re here,” Seungcheol said softly as you stirred awake.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I fell asleep,” you apologised, knowing you broke a universal law. Do not fall asleep at the passenger seat.

“It’s okay, traffic was light and honestly it was kind of peaceful,” Seungcheol teased and you glared at him. Maybe you didn’t feel that bad.

“Come on let’s check in,” Seungcheol said as you slowly made your way out of the car, grabbed your things and headed towards the hotel.

“I can’t believe our manager gave us a room to share,” you grumbled, as you entered the hotel suite.

“Correction she gave us a suite to share with separate bedrooms, it’s really not that bad,” Seungcheol offered and you pouted.

“Fine, but don’t snore loudly and disturb me,” you mumbled.

“I do not snore!” Seungcheol protested.

“You fell asleep in the shop once and you snored so loudly that you woke yourself up,” you teased making Seungcheol sulk.

“Such a meanie,” Seungcheol pouted.

“You’re adorable when you sulk,” you said with a fond smile making Seungcheol grin at you.

“I’m always adorable,” Seungcheol corrected, and you frowned at him, but you did agree, but you’d never tell him.

“Rise and Shine. I got you breakfast. We need to be the in the ballroom to start the decorations in an hour!” Seungcheol yelled the following day as you entered the living room.

“I’m up,” you whined as you towelled your wet hair.

“Aww, kitten, it’s sunny out. Put a smile on your face otherwise, you’ll ruin the delicate flowers if you’re just angry,” Seungcheol babbled, and you glared at him.

“Hey, how do you know I like this?” You asked as you looked at the plate Seungcheol set up for you.

“Simple, I pay attention,” Seungcheol said with a smile and you felt your heart swell. You never expected him to know so much about you, but it was the same way you knew how he liked his coffee, what his favourite colour was, and his favourite author. You didn’t have to know any of it, but you paid attention too.

“You keep staring at me, quit it,” you muttered as you delicately arranged the peonies into a beautiful centrepiece.

That afternoon you and Seungcheol were busy arranging the ballroom with flowers and making intricate decorations for the reception.

“I can’t help it,” Seungcheol mumbled.

“Why?”

“Well, you look so beautiful doing what you love,” Seungcheol said, making you glare at him.

“Shut up.”

“I can, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I meant what I said,” Seungcheol remarked with a grin.

“You see me working all the time. How come you never compliment me then?” You challenged.

“Because it’s usually in a full shop with other people around, and I don’t know. I only want you to hear the compliments, not everyone else,” Seungcheol offered, making you smile shyly at him.

“Well, thank you, and for what it’s worth, you weren’t too insufferable during this trip,” you offered with a grin.

“I call you beautiful, and you call me mildly tolerable. What does a guy have to do to win your heart?” Seungcheol said dramatically, making you grin.

Little did he know that he didn’t have to do too much.

“Cheol?” You called out from your bedroom, hoping Seungcheol could hear you. You detested cocktail gowns for their design, you could never reach the zipper and always ended up asking for help, and this dress had fancy straps that you couldn’t fasten.

“You hollered?” Seungcheol asked as he entered your bedroom.

“Seungcheol, can you please help me tie this? I promise I’m not trying to be a smartass. I’ve been at this for ten minutes, and I keep screwing up,” You asked as you held the thin strips of your halter with one hand on the back of your neck.

Seungcheol stared at you for a second and nodded, and you turned around so that your back was facing him, and Seungcheol took a deep breath when he saw that your gown was backless, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

You melted in his arms; his toned body felt like heaven against you.

“How tight?” Seungcheol asked, his words making your core throb.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” you responded. You could do the same to him if he wanted to tease you. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop grinning when you heard him curse under his breath as he pulled on the straps.

“Right there?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Use your words,” Seungcheol whispered, his hot breath against your neck.

“Yes, right there,” you breathed out, and Seungcheol complied, tying the knot, and you felt his hands trail down your neck to your bare back, and you had to bite harder on your lip to not whimper at his touch.

“All done,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you turned around, his face mere inches away from yours.

“You look breathtaking,” Seungcheol complimented, making you smile.

“So do you. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the bridesmaids flock to you,” you teased, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“They can flock, but there’s only one girl worth my time,” Seungcheol responded, making you gulp.

“Shall we? We can’t be late,” Seungcheol offered with a grin.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you mumbled. You’d just have to curb your desire for him for now, but once the reception started, you would rile Seungcheol the way he had riled you up.

Your plans were shot to hell the minute you walked into the ballroom, several of your floral arrangements had been destroyed, and you weren’t sure who did it, but you heard the giggles and screams of children in the ballroom and knew you found your culprits.

Now, you weren’t one to yell at children, but when knocked into you, making you knock into another floral arrangement and destroy it, too, you couldn’t help but comment.

“Kids, can you not play here? There are delicate arrangements,” you said as kindly as you could, and apparently, that was all it took for them to start crying.

“Excuse me? How dare you make my children cry?” You heard someone accuse you and turned around to see an angry woman approaching you.

“I didn’t mean to, but they were running around and destroying the floral arrangements,” you mumbled.

“Uptight much? They’re children,” the lady sassed, and you were about to retort when Seungcheol interrupted. You weren’t sure when he showed up, but you were glad he did.

“Ma’am, I apologise that your kids are upset, but really we’re doing our best to ensure the bride and groom are happy. You won’t get blamed for poor floral arrangements, but we will, so please be considerate of that,” Seungcheol responded calmly, and the lady shrank in size and offered a scowl before walking, well stomping out of the hall.

“Jeez, there’s always someone like her everywhere. Come, I’ll fix the arrangements near the front of the hall, and you fix the pieces at the back of the hall?” Seungcheol offered, and you nodded meekly before heading off in that direction.

“Hey, you did a beautiful job,” you complimented as you approached Seungcheol a few minutes later; he was just putting the final touches on a centrepiece.

“Well. I have to. Your hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Seungcheol said.

“You have a delicate touch,” you mumbled.

“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Seungcheol said with a smirk, making you grin and roll your eyes at him.

“I’m glad to see you smile,” Seungcheol said.

“Don’t let what the mother said get to you, okay? She’s just mad that her kids embarrassed her, take pride in your work. I know I do,” Seungcheol said as he leaned closer to place a kiss on your cheek.

“I have to go help the groom find his boutonniere. I’ll see you later?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled fondly at him. You watched him leave, and once he did, you placed your fingers over the spot he just kissed, and you swore you felt it tingle.

Seungcheol really didn’t have to do much to win your heart. He had it. The kiss just sealed the deal.

“Alright, you’ve been pouting since that little kid knocked over that vase. I’m sure that kid feels awful. Will you now just forget it for a bit and enjoy the evening? Why don’t you dance with me?” Seungcheol offered later that evening when he saw you sulking by the bar during the reception.

“I’m not upset about that. It’s just that when his mother called me uptight, I got annoyed,” you admitted, and Seungcheol nodded knowingly as he took a seat next to you at the bar.

“Do you think I’m uptight?” You asked, honestly, you didn’t care for Seungcheol’s opinion, but the alcohol made you extra sensitive, and for some reason, you found yourself seeking comfort in your work enemy.

“Nah. I think you take pride in your work, so when a kid tramples over it, you’re allowed to be upset,” Seungcheol consoled.

“When you say it like that, I sound unreasonable, getting mad at a kid at all,” you trailed off.

“Nah. That kid was getting really annoying. He stomped on my foot a couple of times,” Seungcheol joked, smiling when he saw you return him a brief smile.

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset, you take pride in your work, and if anyone messes with it, well, it’s fair to be upset,” Seungcheol explained, reiterating his earlier points.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Come on. You shouldn’t be sulking at a wedding. Come dance with me,” Seungcheol offered as he hopped off the barstool and stood in front of you, holding out his hand.

“You? Choi Seungcheol, you’re telling me not to sulk? You’re the king of sulking!” You teased, and Seungcheol grinned.

“Yes, but I look cute doing it,” Seungcheol boasted, making you frown and swat his hand away.

“Go away, Cheol,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t say you don’t look cute when you sulk, it’s painfully adorable, but I like it when you smile more,” Seungcheol clarified.

“Smooth.”

“Very, now, dance with me. You look beautiful, and I recall you telling a customer in the past that you love weddings, so why not enjoy this one?” Seungcheol asked.

“You remember the shit I say?” You were surprised that Seungcheol even recalled that conversation.

“Of course, now come, dance with me,” Seungcheol pushing his outstretched arm towards you, you smiled as you took his hand, and he guided you towards the dance floor.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Seungcheol asked as he started to dance with you, his arms were around your waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

“Maybe, once.”

“I should say it more, I cannot take my eyes of you,” Seungcheol complimented making you shyly hide your face in his chest.

“Why the sudden flattery?” You ask.

“It’s not sudden, I always try to do the same at work, but you’re usually busy biting, actually you are rightfully biting my head off at work,” Seungcheol corrected making you smile.

“Then why be so annoying?” You asked making him laugh.

“How else do I get your attention?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled at him.

“Okay, I have to know, you sure you don’t like being scolded, like there’s not a hidden sub inside you?” You teased.

“Kitten, this is the second time you’ve asked about my kinks, you sure you don’t want to just find out?” Seungcheol asked, and you leaned up slightly to softly place your lips against his.

“Show me,” you whispered as you pulled away from his lips, and Seungcheol couldn’t get the two of you out of the ballroom quick enough.

The elevator trip and the walk back to the room was very quiet but not awkward, Seungcheol held your hand the entire way, and you were glad because his grip made you feel grounded when you were starting to float on cloud nine.

Once you were inside the room, Seungcheol had you Seungcheol pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. His lips were even softer than you could have dreamt of. They felt full and plush as they moved against yours.

You melted into the kiss when you felt Seungcheol’s hands move along your body, his fingers pressing into your waist and back, making you moan into the kiss.

“Is that all you got?” you teased, as you mumbled against his lips, and Seungcheol smirked into the kiss as his hands moved up your exposed back, his fingers tracing your bare skin and sliding his hands down to your clothed waist, his hands moving up your stomach resting just below your covered breast.

“More?” Seungcheol asked, moving his lips away from yours to place them on your neck as he started to place soft kisses there, making you whimper at his touch.

“Can I take this off?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded furiously, making him smile; he placed another kiss on your lips and quickly stripped you off your clothes, leaving you only in your panties, leaving your breasts exposed to him.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groaned out, and you smiled shyly at him as he pulled you into his embrace and carried you over to sit you down on the couch. Seungcheol’s lips found your neck as he sucked love bites into your neck, and his hands gently moved down to your hips. Large hands moved to grab your ass, pulling you tight against him; a string of moans and swear words left your mouth as you felt his hard length rub against your clothed pussy.

“Cheol,” you whined out.

“Yes?”

“I need you,” you breathed out, and that’s all Seungcheol needed as he carried you into his bedroom, laid you on the bed, and quickly rid himself of his clothes.

Once naked, Seungcheol crawled between your thighs and groaned when he saw the wet patch on your panties.

“Fuck, let me have a taste, kitten,” Seungcheol said, and you only whimpered, spreading your legs further to accommodate him; Seungcheol moved quickly, pulling your panties off and throwing them across the room.

Once greeted by your bare, glistening pussy Seungcheol knew needed to taste you, and he placed his plump lips on your clit, and started to suck, your hands twisted in his soft hair. You felt him sliding two fingers into your cunt, making you moan at the stretch, it felt so good, and Seungcheol stuck his tongue out, flicking your clit, making your back arch.

Seungcheol smirked against your cunt, as he decided to pick up the pace, moving his fingers more quickly inside you, his mouth never leaving your clit. You kept whimpering and moaning, which only made Seungcheol increase his speed. Your legs shook as you came for him, falling apart on his tongue and finger. Seungcheol groaned as he tasted your cum, smirking, pleased with the results, but he was far from done.

Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your clit to catch his breath, only to latch his lips back to your clit, making you whine in pleasure and pain. Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your clit while his tongue traced and circled the swollen nub. Seungcheol wrapped both his arms around your waist and held you down.

Seungcheol moved his mouth to your pussy, shoved his tongue inside you while his fingers found your clit and started rubbing. Your grip on his hair got tighter, and he groaned at the sensation. Seungcheol’s groans vibrated against your cunt, and you held his hair for some semblance as you fell apart on his tongue.

When he had finally cleaned you up with his tongue, you were shivering and on the precipice of another orgasm. You whimpered, trying to move away from his mouth, you were incredibly sensitive, but Seungcheol wanted to keep going. He wanted you to have a night you’d never forget, so he did and lapped up your release.

“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised as he sat back and admired your pulsating pussy, wet, sticky, and all for him.

“Cheol,” you moaned out.

“Yes, kitten?”

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, to make him smile as he adjusted your position so you were on your hands and knees.

Seungcheol held your hips and slowly pushed himself inside you, and you felt a slight burn at the stretch. It had been so long for you since you had sex, and he was big and thick.

Once Seungcheol realised how you weren’t hissing in pain anymore, and instead, you were moaning and muttering about how good he felt, Seungcheol started to move. He knew he wouldn’t last, not with you clenching around him so tightly. However, Seungcheol thrust into you, his movements hard and deep, eliciting whimpers and moans from you with each movement of his hips.

Seungcheol needed to cum, but not before you, as he set off a steady pace as he fucked you and slowly reached his fingers down to your clit and rubbed at it furiously; the room was filled with your screams and his guttural moans.

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” Seungcheol groaned, gently biting your ear lobe at the same time.

“Inside, me, please, cum inside me,” you begged as he fucked.

“Fuck fuck”, he groaned; a few thrusts later, he suddenly stilled and pulled out of and flipped you over so that you were laying on your back, and Seungcheol took a deep breath as he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist.

Seungcheol’s hard cock rested against your aching cunt; simply seeing his length made you delirious. His length was perfect, it could go deep inside you, and the thickness made you feel as good as when he fucked you. Seungcheol made you so full you had never felt, and you were sure he had ruined you for other men.

You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. Seungcheol pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch. Seungcheol’s hands moved to unwrap your legs, moving them to position them around his neck.

The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt, and he thrust his pace was perfect. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan.

“Baby”, you whimpered.

“Yes?”

“I want to ride you,” you choked out, and Seungcheol had to take a deep breath not to cum right then and there.

You whimpered as he pulled out and adjusted his position so he could lay on the bed and adjusted your position so Seungcheol could lay under you. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you slowly sank onto his length.

You wanted to see Seungcheol fall apart underneath you, you trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You moaned, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt.

“Fuck,” you gasped as he pushed two fingers into you. Seungcheol stood up slightly as he shoved his middle and ring finger into your cunt and hooked them there.

“Scream for me,” Seungcheol said as he vigorously pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt. He used his other hand to press down your pubic bone, holding you still as you thrashed about.

“Do you hear how wet you are?” Seungcheol asked as he kept fingering you. You whimpered in response, fisting the bed sheets between your hands and screaming as you came hard.

“Fuck. I can’t,” you choked out when you noticed he hadn’t stopped his movements.

“Yes, you can. I know you can,” Seungcheol encouraged as he repeated his actions, making you squirt all over his hands.

You whimpered in his grip, pushing his forearm, and Seungcheol smiled as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out.

“Good?” Seungcheol asked.

“Mhm, very,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile.

“Noo!” You whined when you felt him move, and Seungcheol swore his heart melted at that moment.

“I need to clean you up,” Seungcheol said.

“No, stay,” you whined making him laugh.

“Please?” You asked and Seungcheol didn’t have the heart to deny you.

“Fine, but not in this bed, it’s a little wet,” Seungcheol teased making you bury your head into his chest more.

“Just hold onto me, and I’ll move you,” Seungcheol said as he carried you off the bed and into your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the bed, and used it as and excuse to quickly slip away and bring back a wet towel and gently clean you up.

“Come here,” you whined holding your hands out for him.

“Adorable,” Seungcheol cooed as he climbed into the bed, holding you in his arms as you both fell asleep.

The following morning you woke up with a dull ache between your thighs, and an empty bed. Before you could worry, you spotted a note on the bed.

I’m outside, waiting for room service, I thought we could do with breakfast, also I took a shower and left a towel out for you too.

-xx Cheol.

You smiled as you read the note, and took his suggestion, and hopped, well hobbled into the shower.

You saw Seungcheol sitting on the couch and staring out the window when you entered the living room, you felt more awake after your shower.

“Morning,” you greeted as you sat down next to him, and Seungcheol immediately turned around to face you, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips.

“Morning,” he mumbled against your lips.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked.

“Sore.”

“I would apologise, but I don’t think you mind, do you?” Seungcheol teased.

“Cheol!”

“Okay, but as a dutiful boyfriend, I’ll make it up to you!” Seungcheol declared.

You didn’t mind Seungcheol being your boyfriend, hell, you loved the idea, but it surprised you, and you were about to respond but a knock on the door stopped you.

It was room service and for a few minutes you couldn’t say much.

Once the servers left the room and Seungcheol ws setting up the plates you decided to speak.

“Cheol. I like kitten.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like as my boyfriend you should know what I like,” you said making him grin.

“I like kitten, darling and sometimes baby,” you added.

“What else do you like?” Seungcheol asked.

“You.”

“Oh? What a coincidence because I also like you.”

#seventeen #seungcheol #scoups #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #svthub #kvanity #thekpopuniverse #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst

655 notes · View notes

cashmoneychiyo · 9 months

Text

A happy 2024 to our readers + [now closed] recruiting new cleaner(s)!!!

Hello GSNK fandom! We hope you've had a safe end to 2023 and that the new year brings you lots of joy/success/GSNK/tanuki (loljk) \o/ we thank you once again for keeping us company and supporting our releases! Apologies for our random delays and our limited time for answering messages in recent months, but we still appreciate all your comments and whatnot c:

Now for business -- CMC's cleaning team has been stressed for time recently due to increasingly busy schedules, so we've decided to advertise for more cleaners/redrawers to join the squad! We're hoping to cut down our backlog and give some breathing space to the team.

Experience is appreciated but not essential, we just need you to show some examples of you being a decent redrawer (and/or we might ask you to clean a page as a test)

We’ll need you on discord (that’s where CMC gathers together to discuss everything)

Be fairly available (enough so you can at least rotate around) since cleaning takes priority whenever new material comes out -- but please don’t prioritise us over your irl stuff! School/work/your other needs are always more important o7

If you’re interested, then please message @cashmoneychiyo or me @grolia off anon so I can privately reply to you! Or you can use the chat function to talk to me if you're able to (that may be the easier option actually, but it's up to you) o7 If you're not a tumblr user you can still message us on anon, just also include your discord username so we can contact you if we'd like to chat. I will do my best to reply asap 🙇

#mod grolia #btw I say cleaner(s) bc we will very likely take in multiple new ones #in a rare reversal the translation team has outpaced the cleaning team (which should say a lot considering how OP our cleaners are)#btw Ch148 will be coming to your doorstep soon have no fear!#btw [2] ty for voting in our poll!

163 notes · View notes

brostateexam · 6 months

Text

Have not been saying much for a while because everything is hard.

I. My BiL has had c diff three times now and after the third time the oncologist decided to take a damn the torpedoes approach because they were wasting weeks that should have been devoted to chemo because he was too sick and too weak to withstand outpatient treatment. I haven't seen him irl since December but my mom says he looks rough and if his immune system is so messed up that he keeps getting c diff idk that I really want to visit him. What if I get him sick?

All of this is background to me, though, because mostly I'm invested in my sister. She wants to divorce him. He needs to be better enough that she won't face ostracization for doing so. I am invested in him getting better enough for that to proceed for her sake.

II. Something about my relationship with my mom has been bothering me and I finally figured out what it is: everything is equally important to her. She doesn't prioritize anything. If I am having a tough time and ask for help she'll say "well I'm busy every day this week but I can come over next week in Thursday for ninety minutes" and then when she comes over I ask her what she was up to, both to make conversation and because I'm nosy, and it's like... she volunteered for a clothing drive at the synagogue. She went grocery shopping. She went to a farmer's market. Thanks for fitting me into your schedule, I guess! Glad to know I am on the same level as farm fresh tomatoes.

III. I have been having a really tough time of it for the last few months. The vacation in Mexico was... Not restful. Shane had a seizure on the plane and I spent the first two days managing logistics related to that (and navigating the extra ~$2k I spent covering his medical costs while on the trip). His back is still fucked up almost two months later and so I get to do extra housework and chores because he can't lift or bend without being in pain.

IV. Resultant to III, I had a really awful period of about a month with an online friend who started being super short and terse with me because I've been around online less. It was really clear he felt like I was ditching him to go hang out with my cool friends or something, instead of the reality of the situation: I'm cleaning litter boxes and doing yard work and changing the sheets on the bed aka #livingthedream. I told him about all the stuff that was going on but it was clear he didn't believe me or resented my absence nevertheless. This came to a head with me basically texting him an essay about why he was being a bad friend. In a turn of good news, he listened, and apologized, and we mended fences. That was nice because I just don't know how much more bad news I can take right now.

V. I've been struggling with work but really it's just. My boss. My coworkers like me. My project sponsors like me. My skip level likes me. My exec likes me. It's just him. We don't have a good relationship and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know that it is fixable. This is a problem because this is the guy I need in my corner to advance my career and I don't know that he'll do that for me. The alternative is leaving my company, which sounds attractive on paper but in practice the job market is so so bad and it's just so discouraging. The idea of a new job sounds incredible. I wish I could do that. Maybe even a career change.

VI. Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen because of financial pressures. NGL, as much as I like my house (and I do -- I love its little windows, I love my pink dining nook and green bedroom, I love the mature fruit trees and pretty backyard full of wildflowers), I wish i had the cash in hand, instead. I feel trapped here, and like I'm making the most of it. That's a shit feeling to have.

VII. I've started regaining weight. Not a lot. Fifteen pounds since October. But it's scaring me. It's making me wonder if this whole surgery thing was pointless because I can't seem to stop myself from wanting to eat myself to death. So I'm trying to beat it back without resorting to "diet culture behaviors" (read: disordered eating) and that's tough.

There could be a separate post for things that are going well perhaps, but this is what's going not so well and it feels like a lot. Sometimes it feels like too much.

#*eating disorder #*cancer #*money

76 notes · View notes

h5eavenly · 5 months

Text

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

PROFILES [JAKE'S SIDE] ✪

✶ Masterlist.

prev ✶ next

PARANOIA!: rock band that blew up after a clip of their lead singer jake went viral of his performance on stage, have been on hiatus ever since he left.

jake sim : 24, former lead singer of paranoia, left the band after two years and quit music have been a model ever since. control/clean freak, has ocd traits. is known to be the nation's sweetheart after clips of him being really kind on multiple occasions spread but is very hard to deal with irl.

park jongseong: 24, jake's manager and best friend. have been with him ever since his paranoia days and is the one who suggested jake should start modeling.

seo soojin: 25, worked with jake on a project and they have been besties ever since, has a clothing line called seosoon.

jennie kim: 28, ceo of hype have always been interested in business and got gifted the company as a birthday gift by her father. met ryujin in an animal shelter and they have been together for seven months.

kim sunoo: 22, been jake's makeup artist for a while now. likes to shit on him and jay for no specific reason but is sweet to everyone else , jennie's bestie.

park sunghoon: 23, is lowkey new to the industry and started recently working under hype and as jake's stylist. most of the time he's just there to be there, got caught selling jake's used stuff multiple times.

↳✶ Synopsis: after being fired and blacklisted from the entertainment industry your life is on the verge of falling apart. An opportunity arises to save you when you get a job offer to work as a personal assistant for ex lead singer of the rock band PARANOIA! and now turned model, nicknamed the nation’s sweetheart- Jake Sim. However his image crumbles quickly when you discover he’s nothing but the devil in disguise.

A story of two hurt souls finding comfort within each other in the most unexpected ways.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy , @wonwoos-wineparty , @nxzz-skz , @piripurora , @vousty

@realrintaro , @yoongi-cafeot7 , @slut4hee , @chartrucewhore , @chaeyunloveeee

, @iveivory , @hearteyesforseungsung , @jooniesbears-blog , @hee4lifer

67 notes · View notes

laylajeffany · 18 days

Text

🖤 genuine appreciation 🖤

Since starting a new journey a few weeks ago in my real life, I've been receiving daily the absolute kindest, sweetest, and most thoughtful messages online about my writing. I'm not sure if this is karma or not, but I'm actually finding the comments incredibly motivating as I was really having a hard time coming back to the writing that I love. I want to give a very sincere thank you for everyone who has recently left a comment, sent an inbox, and bookmarked with something they enjoyed. For years, I've been team 'don't read the comments' and 'other people's opinion of me is not my business' but since keeping an eye out for bot activity, I've been paying attention, and extremely gracious for the positive feedback. I'm fighting a battle against turning inward, being fueled by my negativity, and pushing away the world. Truly, this love from you all is helping. Filling my cup with positivity is very difficult, but everyone who is sending me kindness is pouring into it. Personal post ahead -

In an effort to try and starve off the spiraling pit of depression demons, I've been working to heal some horrible relationships IRL. In the past, when I've up and moved during a manic phase across the country, I've let relationships dissolve and never had closure. It certainly takes two to tango, and so many times I just ignored people in my life instead of addressing my issues with them after I did/not make things worse, or left on a really sour note. Knowing I'm not moving on a whim this time, and that I have months to deal with all that needs to be dealt with - the messes I've made over the last five years, it feels like I should clean them up. Since summer ended, I've been actively shoving aside pride, stuffing down feelings of 'this is not my responsibility,' to being the one to initiate an apology and extend an invitation to do better together, or simply hope that the genuine feeling is received and the air is cleared. This is being received exceedingly well. I've always been one to literally run 2,000 miles away from my problems instead of solving them. I do not think I was initially the problem in any of these situations (this time), but I allowed the problems to fester, made them worse, and eventually turned toxic to many people. I might not have started the problem, but I became a problem. My attitude towards people I don't like is not subtle. I can be mean, rude and often spiteful. It turns out, people appreciate when you tell them that you made a mistake (duh), and so far - everyone has also then acknowledged where they could have done better, too. And I do genuinely mean it - like...I can hold a grudge like it's my job, and I really want to learn to let things go. Apologizing and making an effort to just do better seems like a good way to start doing that. I honestly feel an actual weight off my shoulders that I didn't know I was carrying. Being nice instead of toxic feels healing in a way that is surprising me. I've long made myself 'unbully-able' and I would not say that I was bothered by the fact that I had poor relationships with colleagues, families, community members, and others, but I did feel like since I have the opportunity and time to do something about the fuses I allowed to stay lit, I could put in the effort to put them out before I up and leave this time. Maybe it was affecting me more than I realized. This sort of feels like something Wednesday would figure out in the chaos Universe with a little help from Larissa & co. lmfao.

#personal #layla is healing

47 notes · View notes

cattimeswithjellie · 4 months

Text

Liveblogging Doc Stream VOD, 6/8/24

(Just as an important contextual note for this stream, Doc is _always_ joking when he vows revenge or eternal hatred on somebody in these streams. He has assured everyone on a number of occasions that his petty rage is a bit and neither he nor the other Hermits ever take it seriously.)

Doc Stream, 6/8/24

9:20 Doc opens the stream by claiming that some crimes are so heinous that they require immediate retaliation. Someone has touched Doc’s redstone, and he is Not Amused. He tells chat that he was emotionally distressed to the point that he killed Cleo’s pig, but insists that the pig is really the victim of whoever touched the redstone. He offers a plea in the alternative that the pig was looking at him funny and it was really a case of self defense. Chat is divided on whether this is a compelling argument, but most of them are still busy saying hello.

10:38 Doc switches camera to Hermitcraft. He is in his base. He tells chat they will investigate swine crime later. He recaps last week’s stream where he broke 5k subscribers and says that his wife does not believe him about his number of subs. Today’s sub count is 4788 as a result of some gift subs lapsing. He needs to make it to 10k subs so he doesn’t notice as much if he loses a few. He thanks some subs and donos. Someone in chat mentions TCG and Doc is happy to be able to talk about it at last. He also admits that he has finally solved his considerable lag problem but is embarrassed about it.

14:50 Doc tells Chat that Beef has been working on TCG behind the scenes, and Joe Hills has been cultivating an IRL TCG community to play the game. The Hermits decided a TCG expansion is in order and artists have been hired for the new work. All the artists are under NDA, on pain of goat-slapping. Several of the DCP artists are part of the project. Doc was barraged with questions from his team on what sort of art he wanted, and insisted he wanted the artists to make the decisions. He was forced to join a Discord and actually talk to the artists, which is clearly terribly painful to him (in a clearly joking way.) He thanks more subs,.

17:55 Doc shows off the new smoothness of his improved FPS. He admits that for weeks he was whining and complaining about lag, but the solution was simple: a vacuum cleaner. When he finally cleaned the dust and yuck out of his computer, his overheating and lag problems were magically solved. He is embarrassed but pleased. He still has not set up his new PC.

20:45 A chatter asks how Doc’s day is going. He says it is brilliant, that he set up a tomato house and needs to end the stream on time because he has a delivery of garden equipment coming in. Home growing of cannabis is legal now in Germany and now it is quite difficult to find home gardening equipment at the shops. At the moment his plants are growing very well. He has 30-40 plants for sure this season. He is very excited about his tomatoes.

22:45 Time for work! The beacon is broken again. He thought he fixed it, but has a suspicion something else is broken. He needs to be on the server tomorrow at 6:55am to see what happens at that time. He talks about some redstone stuff involving the beacon that is beyond the ken of this livestreamer, but the upshot appears to be that the beacon is getting loaded and unloaded during server reset and that breaks it. There is supposed to be a workaround involving a hopper clock but it is not working. He wants to be online and watching what happens at the next reset. Doc thanks more donos and gets attacked by phantoms who shriek “Time to Shreep!” in Bdubs’ voice. He sleeps.

26:05 Doc’s job for today is to fill the machine he built last week to make armor trims. He will also investigate the heinous crime of redstone-touching. He gets a shulker box from his dispenser and begins filling it with the materials that can be used to decorate armor. Chat helps by reminding him of which materials he needs.

29:00 Doc makes the (possibly hubristic) claim that he is going to work today and no one will be able to stop him. He talks about the insanity of last week’s stream and how it was a once in a lifetime experience with the chat determined to get him to 5k subs. He is still not over it. He finishes gathering his materials then pauses to think. Chainmail armor cannot be used in the machine, but leather armor is possible. Doc asks how to farm leather. Chat suggests murdering horses and he calls them murderers. He raises the possibility of finding a hoglin farm or possibly bartering. He goes to the nether.

31:50 A chatter asks what is the weirdest fan-made thing that Doc has seen about himself. He says not to get him started. He begins to AFK the hoglin farm and demands chat do the math to determine how much leather will be needed. Chat doesn’t know, but is pretty sure it is more than 3. Doc settles on 96. He says a lot of fanart is pretty weird, especially the shipping fanart of him and Ren, though he has always said he doesn’t mind. He is not going to address the fanfiction but describes it as really far-out weird. Chat immediately calls him out (good-naturedly) for calling Ren his husband and then saying that ship art is weird. A chatter asks if Doc is using his new PC, he repeats his embarrassing vacuum-cleaner story. We get more details about the lengths Doc went to while chasing down his lag, including streaming to Cortex, maker of the Sodium-rendering mod Nvidium. Cortex apparently did suggest overheating might be the problem but Doc insisted with great fervor that his computer couldn’t possibly be overheating.

38:20 After recalling all of these computer misadventures, Doc decides that the story is too embarrassing to keep retelling. From this point onward in the stream, anyone who comments on the lack of lag will be told that Doc is actually using the new PC. Chat is not allowed to snitch.

40:00 Doc says that the new video got a small amount of static in the comments over the “wokeness” of putting up a rainbow beacon to celebrate his friends during Pride Month. Doc relates the arguments he has had there and on Twitter. LGBTQ issues are not a major issue in Doc’s life, as a cishet man, unless someone is going after his friends. (He makes a quick reference to the time he got in a fight at Disney because some people were hassling Bdubs, a story he has told before.) He very much disagrees with the argument that Pride is being shoved into people’s faces. He says people are just weird. He speculates that it may be a cultural thing as well, that in Germany nobody is really arguing about Pride month.

43:30 Doc arrives back at the shopping district. He says it is time to stop focusing on the complainers and get back to the really important issue, which is his redstone. A chatter points out that his mic is hot and he says he wants it that way, so that everyone can hear. He yells to the empty shopping district “YOU HEAR ME, HERMITS? A CRIME! HAS! HAPPENED!” He says he’s going to put up speakers all over the server to remind people. Someone asks if the crime was pig murder. He is not amused. He does not believe Scar or False were the culprit. At the suggestion of chat he does a quick check for snails in the machinery, saying that if he sees any, he will be getting out the strong pesticide. No snails are found. Doc says he wants to fix it very badly, but that would be tampering with evidence. He does some more shouting into the shopping district, then admits he doesn’t believe Xisuma or False, the only hermits online, had anything to do with it. False apparently is an angel, with no criminal energy inside her.

46:30 Time for work. Doc does not believe it was Cleo either, because when he killed her pig she got mad instead of confessing. He realizes that he forgot to bring the shulker box with him and it is back in the swamp. He blames chat.

47:30 Doc begins walking home, discussing potential suspects. The only Hermit he remembers tweaking lately is Scar, by laughing at the Death Scar prank and telling him he’s on Jevin’s side. He is sure it isn’t Scar, though, because Scar is a very bad liar and also would not have lied but would’ve doubled down and demanded to know what Doc was gonna do about it. He also doesn’t think it was Grian because he and Grian are cool right now and Grian hasn’t been around. He wonders if Joel might have done it just to be pesky. Chat suggests XB or Wels, and insists Joel would not mess with a build. Doc says XB is too nice. It definitely wasn’t Joe because Joe is Doc’s lawyer. He thinks Iskall is a possibility and decides to check his shop purchases. If Dark Oak has been purchased, the trail of evidence leads to Iskall. Doc declares that this is the biggest scandal on Hermitcraft since the tunnel bore incident. By now he has arrived home and collects up his shulker box and crafting table.

50:50 Back to the shopping district, as Chat continues naming basically ever Hermit as possible suspects. Doc thanks his “sugar mama” donos and does a little dance for them, then gets down into the guts of his redstone. He says that this is going to involve some brainwork. He swears incidentally, surprising some chatters, and explains that he does swear during stream. A chatter mentions that he is hotmiccing his swears into the shopping district, but Doc does not appear to notice.

55:15 A chatter says he is a fan of what Doc and the Hivemind are doing and encourages him to keep it up. Doc says his plans are to invent email on the server and maybe also do some drilling. He begins creating armor for the Tide armor trim, remembers that Tide is the name of a laundry detergent, then remembers the eating Tide Pods fad. He briefly despairs for humanity, then moves on to discussing how the armor pieces should be decorated. Chat helps Doc make various fashion choices.

59:45 A dono comes in labeled “from the ladies in the chat.” Doc says he knows 90% of his audience is ladies and that he is catering to the female audience, with his looks. Chat has many reactions to this information. Doc reiterates that he is the humble GOAT. He cannot say it with a straight face.

1:01:20 Another dono comes in claiming that a large percentage of his audience is nonbinary and should also be catered to. Doc assures them that he is also catering to the nonbinary audience, again with his looks. He cannot remember the phrase “gender goals,” but says he has been told that he is a gender role model for several fans who are transitioning. Chat assures Doc that he is indeed very gender. Doc says that he is catering to everyone with his looks. He does admit that it is hard to keep track of the often-complex array of identities and banners within the community, especially as someone who is outside of it, but reiterates that he loves all of Chat. He declares that the Jolly Roger is the flag usable by everyone, because being a pirate is the best thing you can be.

1:04:15 A chatter activates the auto text-to-speech function and makes it chant lyrics to “All The Single Ladies.” Doc is surprised, but does another little dance. He goes back to the topic and says that the most sexualization surrounding Pride comes from the people who are too preoccupied with disliking it. Back to the armor fashion discussion.

1:08:00 Doc responds to a hello message from an arriving chatter and advises the rest of the chat that if they want to be noticed by the streamer, they should use the color that this particular chatter has used, because it is very attention getting. (The chatter has chosen magenta as their username color.) A chatter asks if Doc is going to build one of every combination of armor and trim. Doc says no, that would be crazy. He is going to build a nice mix to showcase some possibilities. He replaces more armor pieces in the droppers and decides to use pink leather in place of chainmail, which does not work in the machine.

1:10:50 Doc heads for the dye shop to find pink dye. He examines Pearl’s Wordle build but finds that the dye is still in her truck shop. He accidentally visits the Purr-Purr shop before finding his way to the dye truck. Doc gets out his ender chest and realizes that he has no diamonds because he put all of them in the materials shulker box, which is back at the armor machine. He scolds chat for not reminding him to bring diamonds to the dye shop and bemoans their laziness in relying on their GOAT to remember everything. After a quick trip across the shopping district, he pays for his dye and dyes his leather armor pieces.

1:13:45 More armor fashion choices, this time for Coast trim. Doc is pleased that with the lag gone, he is getting so much done today. His anvil immediately breaks, but he has a spare.

1:15:55 Doc shows off the completed set of Coast trim armor, mostly in shades of pink and blue. He is pleased with it and wishes that he were allowed to dye his netherite armor different colors. He agrees with chat that the armor set gives a maid sort of vibe. He continues with more trims and more armor and trim color combinations, with occasional commentary. Vex trim looks a bit like a suit and tie outfit and a bit like a color-swapped version of Scar’s default skin.

1:23:14 A chatter asks if Doc would complain about sand less if it were easily renewable. Doc says of course, and that it _is_ easily renewable, you just have to make a sand duper. He begins working on the Sentry trim set, which confuses some chatters who think he is saying Sandtree. A chatter gifts a large number of subs. Doc threatens to name all the remaining armor pieces after the chatter. He is close to 5k subs again and encourages all viewers with Twitch Prime to sub now. A different chatter gifts a large number of subs. Doc insists that this gifting of subs cannot go on forever, but is clearly grateful for the generosity.

1:28:00 A chatter asks if the subscription price increase in July means a raise for the streamers. Doc says he does not know. He got an email from Twitch but hasn’t read it yet because most Twitch email is junk. He guesses that the split is usually based on percentage, so a higher sub price ought to mean more money for the streamer. He continues building armor pieces. He corrects a chatter’s misconception that partners get a 70/30 split, saying that 50/50 is the usual split.

1:31:50 A chatter says that Doc has no reading comprehension (Doc misread an earlier comment about bananas.) He says that he knows what the comment meant, but what he said was funnier. He deliberately bananifies a chatter’s name when thanking them for a dono. He talks some about how the grind on YouTube and Twitch is relentless, and that on Twitch, missing even one or two streams can cause a catastrophic drop in sub numbers. He puts together an armor set in the Silence trim, which most chatters seem to agree is the best. Doc agrees in part, but says the chestplate is too much. He does like the way the armor turned out, calling it “serious drip.” Chat suggests it looks like Optimus Prime.

1:36:50 A donor makes a donation and activates the auto text-to-speech. Doc comments that the “single ladies” (a holdover joke from last week) are generous today and says sometimes he feels like a stripper. Chat thinks this is very funny and he acknowledges that he says the weirdest things. Chat assures him that he can leave his hat on. They also attempt to summon Cub for horn acquisition. A chatter says they love Doc’s content but he should keep his clothes on because he’s got no curves. Doc takes great affront to this and assures chat that he has serious booty that he gets complimented on on a daily basis. He is favorably compared to many women’s husbands on the playground. He tells stories about this while chat loses their collective mind. Doc goes back to assembling armor pieces. He tells chat his current weight is 88kg, and that he used to weigh more when he played basketball but it’s been the same for about fifteen years.

((Liveblogger fast-forwarded through some conversation about weight loss and dieting at this point due to personal mental health concerns. Doc continues working on armor trims during this time.))

1:48:30 Doc says that he is almost done with the first half of stocking the machine. He has finished the trims up as far as the Rib trim. He begins working on the Ward trim. He says he may give Bdubs the chainmail he is taking out of the factory and that giving some gifts to the judge might come in handy. He clarifies to chat that he has all the respect in the world for single moms, having grown up as one. Chat queries him intensely on this, and he clarifies he grew up _with_ a single mom. Chat threatens Doc with more fanart.

1:51:55 Chat suggests conducting a poll on how many single ladies love Doc. Doc says they should definitely not do that, because Karin will not like knowing how many single ladies there are out there. (He is clearly joking.) He tells the single ladies to stay in the shadows, and that he knows they are there. He gives them a flirtatious waves and shushes them. He’s beginning the single ladies song again when suddenly interrupts himself with “I put it in the wrong hole again, goddammit.” Chat has the expected reaction to this turn of phrase. It takes Doc about thirty seconds to realize what he has said. He facepalms so hard he nearly falls out of range of the camera. Looking extremely pained, he tells Chat they have their mind in the gutter all day long. Chat has never been so desperately eager for Cub to make an appearance. Doc approves of the Ward armor trim samples and makes a noise similar enough to “uwu” to catch Chat’s attention again. He does not know what Uwu means, and Chat is only marginally helpful. Doc laments that life is hard for Boomers like him. Chat suggests that he should ask Gem but he refuses, saying she will just make fun of him.

1:55:00 With one side of the build completed, it is time for a short break. He wonders aloud if someone has been sneaking around inside his redstone. Chat suggests that maybe Doc is 77. Doc says that streaming is definitely not easy work, due to the CONSTANT INSULTS. Despite saying it is time for a break, Doc does not appear to be taking a break. He throws away some excess chainmail with the comment that Bdubs will not be happy about it. Almost instantly a zombie appears in full chainmail armor and tries to kill Doc, followed by another zombie with a chainmail helmet. Chat suspects this is revenge.

2:00:00 Dune trim construction. Doc sings a song about choosing armor trims. The trim comes out looking like tie dye and is declared a Renbob shirt. Doc says he is beginning to reach the unhinged portion of the stream. He sings a little more about what he is doing. Chat is unconvinced that the unhinged portion of the stream is only starting now.

2:03:10 A chatter called “Mistress of Torture” subscribes, Doc takes notice and jokes that this is one of the single moms, but a scary one. That chatter then goes on to make a large gift of subs Doc says “Thank you, Mistress” and laughs for awhile over that. Sub total is back over 5k. Doc thanks Chat as a whole for their great generosity in the last two streams. Someone in chat says they are all simps for Doc. Doc responds that just as there are Ethogirls, there are DocMILFs, which causes a substantial reaction in the chat.

2:06:40 A chatter subscribes and asks what they are signing themselves up for. Doc says they don’t want to know. A chatter suggests that now Chat knows what the M in DocM77 stands for. Doc says that his name came from his basketball friends. He could jump very high, so they said he could jump like Doctor J, but called him Doctor M because it is his last initial. He was also called Doc, he explains, because of his great understanding of and charisma with “the ladies,” who would often come to him with their problems. Doc assures Chat that he was never into chasing women, that his first long-term relationship was when he was 14, and that relationship lasted seven years. A short period of madness followed, and then he met Karin. Chat asks how he met Karin, and he says it was at a carnival party that he attended. It was a last-minute invite so he didn’t have a costume. He put a trash bag on and went as garbage. He saw Karin at the party and told his buddy that he just spotted his future wife. Despite the fact he was wearing a trash bag, he went up to her and they hit it off. Before the end of the party, he tore a heart-shaped piece of trashbag off his costume and wrote his phone number on it. She called him back. “Doctor Love strikes again, suckers,” he concludes. Karin still has the trash bag fragment.

2:11:00 Doc talks more about meeting Karin. He had been having fun as a basketball player, lots of cheerleaders, parties, etc, but he knew right away that she was different. Their friends didn’t initially believe it, but he always knew. He flies to the nether to gather more levels for trimming armor at his gold farm. Chat is disappointed that Doc did not visit Bop N Go. Chat asks for more tips about relationships, but he says there are no good general dating tips because everyone is so different. He says people enjoy the company of people who like themselves. Not narcissism, but knowing yourself and having self-confidence. Putting yourself out there to meet a potential new partner is scary, but the worst they can do is say no.

2:19:00 Doc has almost 30 levels but wants to gather a few more. Chat offers its own dating tips, including good hygiene, not being a dick, and talking to women like human beings. Doc tells chat that if you talk to women like a pickup artist or Andrew Tate, you’re not likely to get far. He offers more bits of relationship advice. A chatter asks how old Doc is, he tells them he is 19. Chat thinks that is very funny.

02:23:00 Doc leaves the gold farm. He is planning on rebuilding it bigger and better at some point, but not until after the next update. He is still being hounded by the forces that would suppress shadow poppy technology but he will never stop. He arrives back at the armor trim shop and tries to remember what trim is next. He talks with chat about the sub count and how many subs have been donated in the last two weeks. He still cannot get over last week’s stream.

02:27:10 A chatter asks if Cleo and Doc will be the first in the new courthouse. Doc says maybe, but what he is really interested in is catching the person who touched his redstone. He claims he would _never_ touch anyone else’s redstone. He believes capital punishment is the only acceptable consequence for such a crime. Doc says that stocking the armor shop machine is not the sort of chores he likes to do, but he is happier doing it on stream with chat to keep him company. He talks about a lumberjack-related television show from Canada that he he watches (Big Timber) and says he enjoys Canadian accents.

2:30:55 Doc sings again. He trims some more armor. A chatter compliments the Goatfather voice from Season 7 and Doc does a brief reprise. He shows off the pants with the Snout trim and declares the size of the belt buckle “sus.” Chat agrees that the pants belong to Texas. Doc has not been to Texas but he would like to go there and eat a gigantic T-Bone steak, drink Bud Light and talk about guns. Doc is not a gun advocate himself, he just wants to talk about them. A chatter says that Doc has Tweeted some strange stuff over the years, Doc scoffs at the possibilty of him saying anything weird.

2:34:00 Doc has been to New York before and has many basketball friends from there. He loves Brooklyn. He accidentally presses a button on the machine, which causes it to dispense an armor. He says that was not good, but the machine is not broken. He talks more about New York. He also talks about going up in the Sears Tower in Chicago and the Space Needle in Seattle. He likes anything you can climb. It has been about 10 years since Doc’s last trip to New York City, he’d like to go back and see how it has changed. He does more armor trims.

2:38 Doc talks more about changes in New York. He says the homeless situation was surprising to him when he visited, but it also happens in Germany and European cities. A chatter says it is unsafe to go to any major cities in the US, Doc scoffs at this idea and says the danger is very exaggerated. A chatter asks Doc to never say their name again because the first mention gave them a mini heart attack, Doc says it again and adds the headline “Twitch Streamer Kills Viewer.” He falls off his scaffolding several times and becomes frustrated. Doc talks about differences between Europe and the US regarding perceptions of race and interracial couples.

2:43:30 Doc thanks a new Twitch Prime subscribers, reminds other viewers with Prime subscriptions that they can subscribe for free. He pulls more armor out of the machine to trim. A chatter asks about Twitch Nitro, which reminds Doc that he wants to try running an ad. He has zero income from ads right now and wants to see what happens if he runs an ad. Chat points out that after the past two weeks, everyone in chat is subbed and will not see an ad. Doc says he needs a bathroom break but will hold it in because Chat demands it. (Chat is being fairly encouraging about running an ad.) Doc says if he pees his pants he will blame Chat.

2:47:30 A chatter asks what Doc will sell trim for. He says 6-7 shulkers of sand, to make the other Hermits regret their life choices. Chat says Scar is about to make bank, Doc agrees. ((Scar is selling sand for 15 diamonds per shulker as of Skizz’s latest stream, making the cost of a trim approximately 90 diamonds)). Doc admires his statue and its prominent booty. He says he debated with Jerome over the size of the statue’s booty, but Jerome assured him that the audience will love it. Chat generally agrees.

2:51:40 A chatter suggests using more iron armor instead of the gold and leather, Doc says iron does not show armor trims as well as other materials. Doc says he can’t pick a bad armor trim because it turns out that he likes them all. He notes a “battle of the MILFs” in the chat as two chatters make gifts of subs. Doc’s lead moderator claims victory as Chief MILF.

2:53:55 Ren signs onto the server, Doc calls him his husband. He explains that the community’s will is that he and Ren are some old married couple. Doc reaches the last set of armor trims. He asks Ren if he is streaming. Ren is not streaming, which is disappointing to Doc.

2:56:15 Doc shows off Shaper trim, the last set of trim, and reevaluates his stance that no trims are bad. He does not like Shaper because it is too generic. He accidentally hits another button. He replaces all the armor in the machine and the job is done. Returning to the surface, Doc hits some note blocks on purpose to run the machine. It produces a set of armor. Doc approves and says it looks like a superhero costume. He says the dispenser will probably need to be encased in glass because Hermits will definitely mess things up. He dismisses the armor. He talks about how to make a payment box, explaining he was deeply disappointed in Bdubs for not seeing the payment box in the wood shop. He expects Hermits to be breaking this machine for the rest of the season. The machine is taking a long time to reset.

3:00:00 Doc goes back into the redstone of the machine to troubleshoot. He figures out what happened and fishes out a chestplate that is lodged in a dropper. He’s not sure what went wrong and wishes he could replicate the error.

3:02:00 Doc returns to the surface and starts wrapping up. He is pleased with today’s progress. He tucks away his diamonds and says he is running low on loose diamonds. Returning to the studio view, he thanks the chat and the mods and looks for someone to raid to. He raids into FalseSymmetry and ends his stream.

#hermitcraft #docm77 #stream liveblogging #hermitcraft tcg #tall claims court

37 notes · View notes